Paradise Lost
by Dante Lewis
Summary: AU. On the run and kept from claiming his godson, Sirius Black thought he'd never live again after Azkaban. But what happens when love finds him where he least expects it? A brief glimpse at what could have been...
1. New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: **I do solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter, or anything remotely recognisable in this story.

**Updated: **Wednesday 1 November 2006. OK, I know it's a day out, but the weekly family dinner was switched on me...

**Prologue**

From its humbled beginnings as a penal colony, Australia's wizarding community was extremely small and exclusive. The eastern states, as a whole, were categorically unsettled by magical folk; immigrants preferring to confine themselves to the first free states, in the south-west. Of course, all of Australia's six states and two territories were considered 'free' these days, but some reputations were just harder to shake than others. With their fragile society barely two hundred years old, wizards of this 'new world' kept largely to themselves, seldom venturing to the east coast, let alone keeping abridge of the goings on in Europe.

For Sirius Black, it was the perfect place to hide.

No one had associated the anonymous ransacking of a suburban travel agent with the notorious escaped prisoner. The people of Little Whinging, in Surrey, were of the pessimistic sort who favoured tall tales of insurance fraud and scandal over something a little more… out of the ordinary. Not even Petunia Dursley, who knew firsthand of the existence of magic, could dispute the local police officer's conclusion that it had been an 'inside job' – situations where there were no signs of forced entry simply commanded such conclusions, and there were no two ways around it.

Even Harry Potter, who had overheard his aunt and their neighbour discussing the news whilst he was pruning the privet hedge in the front garden had not suspected that the random disappearance of a few maps and travel documents would reflect on his life in anyway. He did not know that he had been followed home from the train station that year, just as he did not know that the back door of the travel agent's office had a pet flap; a remnant from when the converted building was once a home to a couple who owned a dog.

Little did Harry Potter realise, how wrong he was in his ignorance.

**

* * *

Chapter One: ****_New Beginnings_**: 

The flight had been long. They had stayed over land as much as possible, passing through the arid lands of the middle-eastern deserts and exotic tropics of southern Asia; flying by night and hiding by day. The northernmost settlement Sirius came across in the top end of Australia after island hopping through the remote regions of Indonesia was still a good two days flight from his intended destination. For purposes of anonymity, Sirius not only wanted a place where a foreigner could spend a lot of time without standing out, but he wanted a place where he would not be recognised. With the southern states out of the question due to an established magical community in existence there, and the major capitals along the eastern seaboard more likely to draw tourists – Muggle and magical alike – who would recognise him from the European press; Sirius favoured a destination that attracted members of an international demographic who were least likely to have paid attention to the news.

Touching down on a deserted, sandy beach a couple of hours before dawn, Sirius urged the weary Hippogriff to seek cover under the canopy of the vast rainforest that lined the north Queensland coastline. Pulling a small travel bag full of promotional toiletries from a deep pocket in his ragged robes, Sirius shed his outer layers and headed for a small spring nearby that he'd seen from the air. Without a wand to repair his decrepit prison robes, he discarded them completely, safe in the knowledge that the local climate was temperate enough to warrant their disposal.

Brushing off the knees of his weathered black, prison-issue slacks and settling down on the bank of the freshwater source, Sirius took off his undershirt and soaked it in the water in a vain attempt to clean it before giving up and using it as a washcloth instead. Pulling the small cake of soap and a cheap disposable razor out of the British Airways insignia travel case, the weary wizard washed himself as best he could, it proving spectacularly difficult to remove his beard without a mirror.

Once finished, Sirius had just tied the old shirt up around his head like a bandanna, when he was interrupted by the sound of hooves. Abstractly, the dog Animagus was reminded of another time, another place, where the welcomed sound of hooves once heralded the arrival of his closest friend in the world. This time round, however, the hairs on the back of Sirius' neck stood on end, and when the sound of a woman's voice called out to him, he was immediately on the defensive.

"Hey! You!" the woman on horseback brandished a riding crop in his direction as she approached on horseback. "What do you think you are doing?"

Reminding himself that no one could possibly recognise him here, he put on a game face and dug deep, scavenging for a shred of the affable charisma and charm that had once served him so well with the ladies.

"Uh, taking a bath?" he said sheepishly, grinning lopsidedly… or at least he tried to; it had been so long since he'd had cause to smile that he could well have been leering at the woman.

The woman stared at him for a moment, as though contemplating her next course of action.

"You are contaminating the water!" she informed him, removing her riding helmet from her head and shaking out her curly, light brown hair, which had been clinging to her forehead with sweat. "This is private property – a protected area – and you are trespassing."

Sirius packed the small cake of soap back into its small plastic container and ran a hand over the silty layer of soap scum that now polluted the surface of the water.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, looking up at the woman with a bewildered expression. "I… I didn't think."

The woman let up, grinning slightly as she combed a hand through her hair before replacing her hat.

"Evidently," she smirked. Noticing the strange man before her begin to sway, his haunted grey eyes staring right through her, she narrowed her eyes and leant forward in her saddle, honey-coloured eyes glinting in concern. "Hey, are you okay?"

Sucking in a deep breath, Sirius blinked up at the woman wearily.

"Tired… so tired," he said in a defeated tone, stumbling forward to lean on a tree beside them. "What… what day is it?"

"Wednesday," the woman said slowly, the wheels turning over in her mind as she took in the man's appearance. "When was the last time you slept in a proper bed? Ate? How did you get here?"

"Flew," said Sirius, the combination of heat, fatigue and having had nobody but a magical creature for company for the past several weeks taking its toll on his social skills. "Got… got lost?"

"You don't sound convinced," said the woman, looking him up and down appraisingly. "You can't have been out here too long, you're as white as a ghost -"

Remembering a line from an old Muggle film he'd once seen with James and Lily what seemed like a lifetime ago, he squinted up at the woman who, despite being shadowed by the early morning sun, Sirius could tell was deeply tanned from years spent outdoors.

"I lost my shirt in a Poker game," he said earnestly, "and my bike… I'm afraid I must have drank too much and passed out. I… I just got up."

The woman scrutinised him for a moment before nodding once briskly.

"Tourist, then?" she said, eying his travel pack and taking stock of his accent. "Pommie, are ya? Thought it'd be a cinch, roaring around oz on a motorcycle, did ya? Skinny runt like you? S'no wonder ya lost ya bike… and let me guess, they fleeced all your gear too and you never caught their names, eh?"

Sirius blinked in disbelief. What had started as a desperate grab at Muggle pop culture to add levity to the situation had soon blossomed into a fully-fledged cover story, and he didn't even have to lift a finger to join the dots together. He didn't know what sort of people the residents of Australia were, but if this woman could so readily buy into the passing notion that he had been robbed blind and exploited whilst drunk, then he was beginning to question whether or not he had in fact chosen the best place to hide. She didn't say much about the local men, but if she considered _him_ to be scrawny and defenceless, then Sirius could not help but conjure the mental image of tanned, rugged men wrestling crocodiles with their bare hands. Looking down at his pale, emaciated body in mild disgust, all he could do was nod solemnly at the woman's conclusions and avert his eyes from her penetrating gaze; for not only did it make him ill to think that he was in no state to physically defend himself, he didn't particularly like the idea of lying.

"Well get on, then," the woman said suddenly, fidgeting with the reigns of her horse and shifting forward in the saddle, so as to make room. "Can't very well have you wander aimlessly in my rainforest and die of exposure, now can I? The paperwork alone would be atrocious. Get on, and I'll take you back to the house… you _do_ know how to ride a horse?"

Sirius stared at her blankly for a moment, his hand having, at some point, risen on its own accord to stroke at the mane of the dark horse. Drawing his hand away quickly, as though burned, he sucked in a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding and nodded distractedly. The weight of having to live in solitude, surrounding himself with lies and secrets, was beginning to bear down on him, and he did not know if he had the strength to go through with it; he would have to confide in someone. He couldn't do it alone.

"Thank you," he said humbly, his gratitude extending not just to her communicated offer, but to what he felt she would be willing to assist him with in the near future. "I promise that you will never regret this," he held out his hand, ignoring the woman's bemused look. "Sirius Black."

The escaped convict exhaled slowly when the woman showed no signs of recognition upon hearing his name. When she greeted his introduction with a small smile, he instantly knew that he could trust this woman. She accepted his hand and shook it firmly.

"Madison James," she said, "but everyone calls me 'Mad'… and I mean that sincerely."

At the mention of his best friend's name, Sirius jolted, and his eyes fell out of focus. Shaking sense into himself when he found the woman's – Madison's – eyes on him, he nodded in acknowledgement and busied himself with climbing onto the horse. With the proficient horsewoman in command of the majestic beast's reigns, Sirius had no choice but to hold on to the woman's waist. At first, he was determined to keep his touch gentle and as impersonal as possible, but as the woman steered the horse across the sand, the precise motions of her riding crop accelerating the horse into a confident canter, he found himself clinging on for dear life; Madison's loose brown tresses flying back into his face, blinding him. Riding a horse, he soon discovered, was nothing like flying on the back of a Hippogriff, or even riding his old motorbike.

"I thought you said you could ride?" she said teasingly, slowing her trusted steed down to a more comfortable trot as they approached a white weatherboard stable. Turning her attention to her horse, she smoothed down the silky ebony mane and crooned to it; "whoa there, Trojan, we're home now. I'll have to brush you down later, okay boy? As you can see I have company…"

The horse bayed indignantly, throwing back its head in protest. Madison shook her head in mirth, causing her long hair to swing over her shoulders and whip Sirius in the face again. Leaning forward, the woman hugged the animal's neck and whispered soothing words into its ear. Watching the two interact, Sirius leant back in the saddle, riveted; his hands slipping from the woman's waist to rest listlessly at his sides as the stead was directed into the open stable.

"Thank you," said Sirius, as he swung his leg over the horse's body and levered himself to the hay-scattered ground so that Madison could follow. "I cannot thank you enough for helping me."

Laughing, Madison slid off her horse and tethered it to its post.

"Bloody oath, was I born on the wrong continent! Are all you English blokes as polite as you?" said Madison, marvelling at Sirius' gratitude; "or are you hiding from something?"

"Um…" said Sirius, taken aback by Madison's perceptiveness. "Well-"

"Hey, I was only messing with you," said Madison, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, _are_ you hiding from something?"

Sirius began to fiddle with the shirt tied to his head, his nervousness swallowing his words as he began to feel particularly vulnerable without a shirt on.

"I, er, well you see…" said Sirius, pausing, feeling as though he had gone back in time and was back in McGonagall's office atoning for a prank gone wrong. If only it were that simple, he thought, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I can explain. It's… it's a long story."

"Oh goodie," said Madison enthusiastically, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards a grand timber house on stilts that seemed to blend into the local fauna. "We can discuss it over breakfast; I don't know about you, but I am starving!"

Sirius shook his head in disbelief, allowing himself to be led up a flight of wide wooden stairs and across a deep, airy, sheltered veranda.

"Are you Australian girls all so trusting?" he mused, mostly to himself, his eyes travelling around the outdoor living area, taking in the inviting cane furnishings with all-weather cushions and open French doors that seemed to open every room onto the balcony. Following Madison in through the main set of doors, his hands pulling apart the silky white mosquito netting that billowed in the sea breeze, he felt an immediate sense of homeliness and had to catch himself before letting out a sob of overwhelming emotion. The last time he had been welcomed into a home, was over a decade earlier, the very night when James and Lily had performed the Fidelius Charm with Peter and changed his life forever.

"You look like you need a coffee," said Madison decisively, pushing him towards a stool against a breakfast bar before stepping into the kitchen. "Let me guess, black, with lots of sugar…"

* * *

An hour later saw the unlikely pair sitting at the kitchen table, picking off the tropical fruit from a bowl in the centre and exchanging small talk. Breakfast had been a refreshing serving of cream-cheese bagels and poached eggs, something of an apologetic 'slap-up' meal to Madison, but dining of the finest calibre to the man who had fed off of wild vegetation and rats for the better part of a year; twelve years of uninspiring prison food and supplemental potions having barely sustained him before that.

Throughout the first half of the conversation, Sirius learned how Madison James had come to own a strip of premier, heritage-listed coastline; how asides from the homestead, which was entirely self-sufficient, the property was entirely untouched. The nearest road was five kilometres away and could only be reached on foot or horseback, with travel to the nearest settlement more convenient by boat. 'Paradise Lodge' had been in the family for five generations, its situation on the fringes of the Daintree rainforest securing its heritage status. Billed as a private conservation park, the land's value, Madison explained, was not as high as the developed coastlines further south, but the lifestyle, she confessed, was priceless.

Fittingly, Madison James worked from home as an artist; dabbling in a touch of astrology and natural healing for the odd tourist that arrived on chartered boats to buy direct from her studio, which sat above the stables. What funds she didn't use to replenish her supplies and keep her home in order, was funnelled into keeping the inland boundaries of the property secure from intrusion and sponsoring local school children on educational day trips to her own personal ecological 'mixing bowl'.

"My mother, Geraldine Madison, came from money," she explained further. "My grandfather designed custom yachts for the filthy rich; and my father was a environmentalist hippie who lived as a recluse in this very house. My parents met, and well, the rest, they say, is history."

"Madison… that's your mother's maiden name?" said Sirius observantly.

Madison nodded.

"My grandparents didn't want their family name dying out and wanted a hyphenated surname, and had my father had his way I would have been named something out there like Amber Sunrise or Poppy Rainbow-" she rolled her eyes at Sirius' amusement. "My mother had something of an aloof sense of humour and 'compromised' accordingly. My grandparents were mortified when they found out."

The conversation then, invariably, moved on to Sirius, and in feeling inexplicably drawn to his present company, the wrongly-accused fugitive was not inclined to lie.

"You're kidding, right?" said Madison, laughing nervously at the poker face in which Sirius delivered his life story. "A wizard? Are you on crack?"

Ignoring her incredulousness, Sirius pulled the dry, stiff cotton from his head and ran a hand through his hair, absently noting that it was in dire need of a wash.

"All right, so I am pretty useless as a wizard without a wand, but look-" he got up and prepared to transform into his Animagus form, "-I can prove it."

With that, he transformed, earning a surprised gasp from his audience.

"_I_ must be on crack," she said, mouth agape, rubbing at her eyes.

Sirius transformed back.

"Now, will you believe me?" said Sirius pleadingly. "Because if you can't believe what you can see with your own eyes, I can't possibly expect you to believe what I have to say next…"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Sirius had bared his soul to this practical stranger, and he felt as though a weight had been lifted because of it. Mulling over his revelations in her mind, Madison nursed her glass in her hand and tilted her head to the side as she peered at him indecisively.

"All right, I'll buy it," she said finally. "But only because you could do that dog trick thing-"

"Animagus transformation," said Sirius, correcting her, his face relaxing in relief. "So, you believe me? That I'm innocent?"

"You can tell a lot by looking into a person's eyes," said Madison solemnly, clearing the table and carrying the dishes to the sink. Without looking back over her shoulder at her guest, she turned on the taps and continued. "Your eyes have seen a lot of pain… suffering… you look…" she cracked a small smile in an attempt to add a bit of levity to the situation; catching Sirius' eyes as she looked back at him shyly; "you look like a little lost puppy."

"That's because I _am_ a little lost puppy," said Sirius dryly, rising from his chair and crossing the room to lean against a counter, facing his new confidant. "By wizarding standards, I'm still practically a teenager."

"Like the Hobbits in Lord of the Rings," said Madison in understanding, handing Sirius a dishtowel. "Say, are they real too?"

"Extinct, I think," said Sirius, racking his mind back to his old History of Magic classes; regretting for the first time that he and James had spent that entire class plotting for pranks rather than listening to the ghost of Professor Binns. "Goblins and elves still exist, however, though Tolkien's impression of elves is grossly misrepresented; I suspect his Muggle publishers were against presenting elves as an inferior race of house servants because of the racial climate in the United States at the time."

"You really are for real, aren't you?" said Madison, shaking her head in bemusement; she could not believe that she was having a philosophical conversation about creatures she had, until recently, believed to be mythological. Even more out there was the realisation that she was standing in her kitchen with a _wizard_, doing the dishes, and that said wizard was a wrongly-accused fugitive and godfather to a boy, a mere child, who was supposed to save the world. If it wasn't for his little 'dog trick', she'd have smiled and nodded politely, taking the first opportunity to call in the authorities and have him packed off to the loony farm. Watching as the man's calloused hands cradled the crockery and dried it so carefully, as though he was scared that it might break in his grasp, she felt a piercing stab of sympathy for this so obviously gentle man who had had to endure so much. Reaching out a soapy hand to stop his motions, she turned to face him fully. "Just why are you telling me all this?"

"You can tell a lot by looking into a person's eyes," said Sirius quietly, throwing Madison's earlier words back at her. "I just knew I could trust you," he added, shifting a bit closer and noting for the first time that they stood eye to eye. "I had to tell somebody. I needed… _need_… help."

Pushing aside the warm feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Madison reminded herself that she had only just met this man and tried to make light of the situation.

"Yes, well, I don't take no freeloaders. You want to stay here, you'll earn your keep," she quipped, wagging a soapy finger at him. She forced herself to keep looking at his face, so as to not become so acutely aware that he was still topless and standing rather close to her; but it backfired when she began to lose himself in the intensity of his gaze. Scrambling for cover, she promptly smeared some suds on Sirius' nose, halting him in his tracks. "You can start by having a bath… or _do you need help_?"

* * *

June swiftly transformed into July, and spending most of his days on the beach collecting driftwood for Madison's studio, Sirius had developed a healthy bronzed glow and regained some of his youthful muscle definition. He was still, as Madison like to point out, a 'skinny little bugger', but with three square meals a day and an outdoor lifestyle, he was fit and healthy… and _clean_.

Madison owned two horses, Trojan and Thor, and after being assured by his gracious hostess that the stables were off-limits from prying eyes, Buckbeak was called in from the wilds and welcomed to take residence at the homestead. In exchange for being taught how to ride Thor, Sirius had fulfilled his promise to take Madison on a twilight flight on the winged Hippogriff. What had started as a once-off excursion, had quickly become a nightly event, with the unconventional couple finding a mutual love for the skies and the uninterrupted view of the stars that the dense darkness afforded them. Secretly, Sirius just enjoyed being close to the woman who had opened her house to him and trusted him when he needed support most. Likewise for Madison, it gave her an excuse to be close to the man while he was awake. The twelve years Sirius had spent in Azkaban had taken their toll on the man, and after a week of sleepless nights it had been discovered that the only way to prevent the haunted wizard from waking up with cold sweats and torn sheets was for Madison to hold him as he slept.

The nightly routine of climbing into bed alongside each other had started out innocently enough. Madison claimed that she was running low on sheets and didn't want to spend her days sleep-deprived, with needle and thread, and Sirius, being the magnanimous houseguest, was prepared to accept his host's thinly veiled concern without complaint. Soon enough, the emotional connection they'd established from comforting each other through the night had transpired into physical awkwardness during the day. It was clear that their relationship was transcending beyond that of a platonic friendship, but whereas Madison was bold and driven by the emerging emotions in her heart, the unfamiliar feelings alienated and terrified Sirius. With the passage of time pushing the horrors of Azkaban to the back of his waking mind, and his nightmares of those memories curbed by Madison's stabilising presence in the night, Sirius became all too aware that, developmentally, he was a 22-year old stuck in a grown man's body. Life had effectively stopped for Sirius the moment the cell door had slammed shut behind him, and the pre-Azkaban Sirius Black had no experience whatsoever of being in a _committed_ relationship. Once, when he had questioned whether or not he had let 'the one' join the seemingly endless list of ex-girlfriends, the newly-wed James and Lily had assured him that he would _know_ when he had found what he was looking for. Neither of them had said anything about the paralysing fear that would come with that knowledge, though Sirius had to suppose that he had Azkaban to thank for that crippling insecurity. Madison, however, had other ideas… the unrelenting woman working patiently at dispelling his every fear, curbing his every hesitation, and accepting him with open arms the moment he was ready to love again; their geographical seclusion from society serving them well to accelerate their relationship.

* * *

"Sirius, honestly, how many times have I told you _not _to pick the native flowers – they're protected, you know that!" said Madison, her face betraying the conflicting emotions she was feeling. "It's a wonderful arrangement, though… but damn it Sirius, you've just stolen the _food_ of… of… _fifty_ different insect species!"

Sirius' face fell, the carefree, effortless grin he had only just become reacquainted with giving way to the hopelessly lost look that had dominated his features for the past twelve years. Seeing this, Madison relented. Wrapping her arms around the strange man she had come to love in such a short time, she rested their foreheads together and stared directly into his eyes.

"Relax, it's not the end of the world," she said resignedly. "We'll just have to plant you your own flower garden, hmmm?"

Chuckling in relief, Sirius returned the hold on his woman and engaged her in a passionate kiss; a measure of physical touch inevitable whenever he needed reassurance.

"Great," he drawled, pulling back slightly, "another thing for me to do! You're a slave driver, woman!"

"Me Jane. You Tarzan," grunted Madison, flicking the tip of Sirius' nose and sparking a mad chase throughout the house; a pursuit that she inevitably lost once Sirius had turned into Padfoot, leaping atop her and smothering her with enthusiastic doggy-kisses.

After wrestling around on the floor with Sirius' Animagus form for a few minutes, Madison finally pinned him down, resting her weight on him.

"So, Harry's birthday is coming up, isn't it?" she asked him suddenly. Harry, the beloved godson Sirius could not stop talking about, was a boy whom Madison truly wanted to meet. It pained her that this man who cared so much for the child was denied the opportunity to raise him. Everything Sirius did, or saw around him, was in someway linked to Harry… whether it be something he thought Harry would like, or something he would like Harry to experience. A calendar on the kitchen fridge counted down to July 31st with all the enthusiasm of an approaching holiday, and unbeknownst to Sirius, Madison had a few surprises in store. "Have you decided what you're going to send him?"

Sirius transformed back into his human form, but not before Padfoot let out a defeated sigh.

"I don't know," he said quietly, averting his eyes. "I… I don't really know him."

"That's not your fault," Madison reminded him. "Besides, that Firestick went down pretty well, didn't it?"

"Fire_bolt_," Sirius corrected her automatically, smiling wistfully at the woman's constant misinterpretations. "But I can't keep getting him things for flying… it's too impersonal."

"Well, you know, whenever I used to take my father anything in the hospital, he'd always appreciate it most when I'd bake him a cake;" said Madison. Her father, Patrick, had been institutionalised in the eighties with a mysterious, degenerative illness, and had passed away several years previously. Recalling the memories, she smiled.

"Nothing says 'I love you' more to a guy, than something you can feed him."

"Are you implying that all men are shallow and only think about food?" said Sirius, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"Oh, I am sure there are _other_ things they think about," countered Madison suggestively, her lips curling into a coy smile; "but we're talking about a fourteen year old boy, so I'm sure you'll still be able to win him over with food."

"But I can't cook," Sirius pointed out.

"Who said you'd have to?" said Madison, smiling widely. "Or wait, don't you want Harry to try my double choc mudcake?"

"But that would be from _you-_" said Sirius sullenly.

Madison cut him off.

"No, it would be from _us-_" said Madison pointedly. "I understand why you can't tell him about me yet, but let me do this for you, please?"

"A cake won't keep," said Sirius stubbornly, getting to his feet and starting to pace. "Not over that kind of distance…"

Madison only nodded in acknowledgement, crossing the open-plan living space to pluck a thick manila envelope from a small desk against the wall. Holding it out towards him, she beckoned for him to accept the parcel.

"This came for you today," she said with a wry smile. "Your new identity… all legit…"

Sirius accepted the package with barely contained excitement. Hands shaking, he tore open the seal of the thick Muggle envelope and extracted the official documents contained within. Inside was a birth certificate, Medicare Card, Passport, bank account details, and licences to drive both a motor vehicle and a marine vessel.

"A _Driver's Licence_?" questioned Sirius, holding up the small plastic card in confusion. "I don't know how to drive!"

"I don't expect you to take advantage of it, you twit," said Madison, shaking her head in mirth. "It's there so that you can quantitatively prove your identity should anyone ask questions."

"And it's all legit?" asked Sirius in disbelief, still unable to get his head around the idea that Madison knew people in high places.

"I had a few people owe me a few favours," shrugged Madison. "It'll hold up, trust me."

Sirius nodded distractedly, flicking through the unstamped pages of the fresh-smelling passport.

"This… this is… is this what Muggles use to travel overseas?" he asked, turning the small pocketbook over in his hands. "I could use it to fly on a… mechanical bird?"

Now it was Madison's turn to laugh at Sirius' cultural misnomer, but she didn't rush to correct him, preferring instead to entertain the image of him wandering around an airport, asking directions to the 'mechanical bird'. Turning serious, she halted Sirius' hands from fanning through the pages, capturing his full attention.

"I thought it would come in handy – you know, in case you had to get to England in a hurry," she said. Taking a deep breath, she made her proposal. "How would you like to go to London next week, with me? With your hair cut like it is and that colour in your face you don't look a thing like that man who washed up on my beach five weeks ago… and you have enough documentation there to keep you in the clear-"

"No Auror is going to buy that I am an Australian, not with my accent," said Sirius miserably.

"So? Your parents were Brits – that's not a lie – and they sent you to some posh English school," said Madison. "C'mon… you keep saying you want to get a wand and grab some things from your vault-"

"It's too risky," said Sirius hoarsely, shaking his head. "I don't want to drag you into anything…"

"It's too late for that," said Madison. "I've already booked our tickets-"

"_Madison…_" Sirius growled in protest.

"_Sirius_…" Madison shot back at him in equal indignation, her hands flying to her hips in challenge. "Look at it this way, they are looking for one man… one man with next to no idea of how to function amongst Moggles-"

"_Muggles_" said Sirius softly, his lips twitching at Madison's endearing slip.

"_Muggles_," repeated Madison slowly. "Yes, well, they will hardly be expecting you to bum around Art Galleries with an eccentric Australian woman; and in any event, I'm not suggesting we go nab Harry from Surrey and draw the attention of these Aura people-"

"_Aurors_…" said Sirius helpfully, unable to hide the smile on his face now.

Madison realised her error and slapped his shoulder playfully as he closed the distance between them.

"Hey, stop correcting me!" she pouted. "I think I am doing pretty well with all your mumbo jumbo, considering I've only known about it a month! You've known about us all your life, what's your excuse?"

Sirius loosely wrapped his arms around the indignant woman and held her in place.

"I don't know why I correct you," he confessed. "You're so adorable when you mix it all up."

"Why do you think I never correct you, then?" said Madison slyly, throwing Sirius for a loop.

* * *

Once in London, the pair stayed in an airy studio apartment in Soho… one of a handful of properties from the Madison family legacy. It turned out that Madison had an established presence on the London art scene, having sent her contemporary Australian art and sculptures to a respected boutique gallery for the past several years. This latest trip, she explained, coincided with an annual Art Show and gallery dinner, in which Australian artists were acknowledged and celebrated with an exhibition at Australia House.

"Merlin, this place reminds me of Gringotts," said Sirius with a shudder as he accompanied his date into the grand Exhibition Hall. As proud as he was to recognise Madison's distinctive style on many of the coveted pieces on display, the cosmetic reminder of the wizarding world could not help but put him on edge. Not for the first time since their arrival, did Sirius begin to regret taking the risk of walking around Muggle London.

Recognising the cagey look on Sirius' face, Madison sought to bring her partner's mind back to the present; assuring him that all was well and that they were safe.

"Relax, _Paddy_," she said.

The name on all of Sirius' new identification read 'Patrick S. O'Ryan': Patrick, or '_Paddy_' as Madison had taken to calling him in public, for her father and Sirius' Animagus form, 'Padfoot'. The middle initial stood for Sirius, and his new surname, O'Ryan, was a phonetic play on his real middle name, Orion. Capturing Sirius' attention, she squeezed his arm in encouragement.

"Stop being so silly! You made it in and out of Diagon Alley yesterday without a whisper, remember? Even if someone saw you, they'd never think of looking for you here! You said yourself that so long as you don't use your wand on the continent, they can't track you!"

Sirius' response was cut off by an approaching critic calling for Madison's attention. As she excused herself apologetically and allowed herself to be led away to mingle with a number of potential clients, Sirius leant back against a pillar, hiding himself in the shadows; altogether relieved that they were heading back to Australia the next day. Now he was equipped with a wand, a broom, and a few handy treasures from the Black family vault, he felt much more complete than he had been for years; and yet with his name still attached to evil and his godson in the custody of others, he felt destined to never be whole.

* * *

Several days later found the happy couple back at Paradise Lodge, slipping back into their daily routine. Spending a great deal of time outdoors did, however, have its downsides. While he would never begrudge the freedom of being able to do away with manmade walls and immerse himself in nature, the displaced wizard could not help but constantly scan the skies for a familiar white owl.

"He's going to stay with Ron for the rest of the summer," Sirius relayed to Madison after the latest delivery from his godson. The relief was evident in his tone, and his face brightened. "They're taking him to the Quidditch World Cup!"

A conflict of emotions then passed over the Animagus' face, as he mourned the loss of another opportunity. Accurately reading into the sullen silence, Madison snuggled closer to Sirius as they sprawled together in a hammock on the back deck; burying her face in his neck.

"I know, you must wish that it could be you taking Harry to the game," she whispered into his ear, pausing to kiss her way down his jaw-line affectionately. "Do try to concentrate on the positives though… he doesn't have to put up with that blasted grapefruit diet anymore!"

Tightening his hold on the woman he had come to depend upon so much in recent times, Sirius sighed into her hair.

"You're right… as usual," he said without hesitation. "I just wish he could be here… to see all this. Petunia was the last person Lily would have wanted raising her son… James made me his godfather in good faith; he deserves to be here with a family who truly care about him."

Resting a hand on his chest, Madison pushed herself up to look him in the face.

"So, we're a family now, are we?" she said playfully, her warm brown eyes twinkling.

Sirius tensed slightly, a thoughtful expression coming over his face as he battled inwardly about something.

"Only if you want to be," he whispered finally, swiftly pulling a small jewellery case from his pocket and presenting it to the woman he wanted to make his wife. "Go on, open it."

Dumbly staring at the old, worn velvet case, Madison shifted her weight so that she was sitting up fully and accepted the ring box with shaking hands.

"Sirius…" she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she fumbled with the small container.

Brushing loose strands of sun-streaked hair from her face as she looked down upon the case in her hand, Sirius marvelled at her natural beauty. In the warm golden glow of the setting sun, her tanned features were glossed with a lively glow and to Sirius' eyes, she couldn't have been carved from a finer stone.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, smiling gently as she struggled to open the clasp of the stiff velvet box. Cradling her small hands in his, he wordlessly extracted the case from her grasp and opened it for her. "Marry me?"

Her breath taken away by the delicate craftsmanship of the small antique ring, Madison melted into her soon-to-be-fiancé's embrace.

"Just how long have you been waiting to do this?" she asked wryly, as Sirius removed the ring from its mount and slid it home on her finger. "Or did you time Harry's letter and the sunset just so?"

"To be honest?" Sirius whispered into her hair, inhaling deeply to permanently ingrain the scent in his memory. "I've had that in my pocket since the day I went to Diagon Alley."

Madison turned her head up to look at him, eyebrows raised.

"And yet you couldn't have gotten down on your knees and done it properly?" she teased.

"You'd better answer before I change my mind, woman," Sirius countered, turning to humour in a vain attempt to hide the nauseating nerves that were turning his insides inside out.

"I'm waiting," said Madison, grinning at him malevolently. "You haven't proposed properly yet."

"What?" said Sirius, surprised. Realising that she wanted him to get down on one knee, he attempted to roll out of the hammock gracefully, only to land flat on his face. No sooner had he rolled over and caught his breath, did a familiar weight settle on top of him.

"I do," said Madison, capturing Sirius' lips in a searing kiss before he could react. Pulling back a few moments later, breathless, she rested her weight on her forearms, leaning on Sirius' chest, effectively keeping him pinned. Splaying the fingers of her left hand out in front of her, inches from Sirius' face, she inspected the ring critically. "Yes, I do think I could get used to wearing this."

Catching a wiggling finger between his teeth, Sirius grinned, and then transformed; the act of reverting to his Animagus form to enjoy his happiest moments a throwback to the time he spent in Azkaban.

"Oh no you don't!" scolded Madison, leaping to her feet and grabbing the dog by the scruff of the neck. "You will transform back to yourself this instant and _enjoy_ this moment as the man I love! You don't need to hide your happy thoughts here – those Dementoids won't get you!"

Before she knew it, Sirius had changed back and swept her up into his arms, burying his face in her hair, dampening her neck with his tears.

"I don't deserve you," he said hoarsely. "All of this… it just feels too good to be true."

Combing her fingers through her lover's fine dark hair, Madison rested her chin atop his head and scowled. One hand travelling down from the back of his neck to the fleshy tender place on the inside of his arm, Madison pinched him. Hard.

"Ow!" Sirius yelped, jumping slightly in surprise, knocking Madison's teeth together in the process. Feeling the impact of head on chin, he recoiled in horror and held his breath apologetically. Meeting her eyes, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Merlin help us, we're a match made, aren't we?"

"The blind leading the blind," agreed Madison, chuckling happily. Wrapping her arms around his neck once more, she pulled her fiancé towards her. "Now c'mere you…"

* * *

If receiving a Wedding invitation by Muggle mail was not strange enough for Albus Dumbledore, receiving said invitation from one of his most notorious former students, from half way around the world, was an even more bizarre occurrence. Sirius Black, the lady-killer of Gryffindor House, escaped prisoner and wrongly-accused fugitive, had, in his exile, managed to find a woman who could settle him down. At first, the meddling headmaster had wanted to send a few words of caution to Sirius, suggestively warn him that, perhaps, his affections for this woman had been tempered by his dependence on her and his isolating situation. Realising then, what a stabilising influence a woman could be over a man, the multi-faceted headmaster held his tongue; his blessing coming quickly once it became apparent how good the Muggle woman was for Sirius' mental state.

The last of the Black family's direct line needed, Albus acknowledged, someone to confide in… someone who was far removed from the horrors of their past and able to support him accordingly. Albus further knew that without the company of a woman to distract him, the rash former Gryffindor would be unpredictable when it came to their common interest, Harry Potter. The wizened old man could only imagine how difficult it must be for the doting godfather to be out of Azkaban and yet so far away from the child he was supposed to help raise; it pained Dumbledore to think that young Harry had no memory of the love and dedication the runaway bachelor had once displayed towards his best friend's infant son.

'_Sirius would make an excellent father_,' the powerful wizard mused to himself as he sent off his acceptance letter with Fawkes, a most secure and expedient way to communicate. Sweeping around his office purposefully, he set about preparing for his trip immediately, all the while hopeful that the woman Sirius was set to marry was of child-bearing years.

* * *

Meanwhile, back on the north-easternmost coast of Queensland, Sirius was getting nervous about the pending nuptials.

"How many people are coming?" he asked, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Whilst tonight was just a casual dinner to introduce Sirius to some of Madison's acquaintances in Cairns, the unfamiliar constraint of wearing a shirt again chafed at him, fuelling his nerves.

"Tonight, or to the wedding?" said Madison distractedly, too busy perusing the wine list. Looking up at her fiancé and taking in his discomfort, she smiled reassuringly. "Four tonight, and just as many on Sunday. I'm keeping it strictly to my friends… anyone associated with work'd want a big flashy do, and my parents' old friends are so up themselves you'd forget what we'd all come together for in the first place."

"Ah, so just those school friends of yours, right?" said Sirius, letting out a breath slowly and reaching for yet another glass of water. Though he'd never seen all of them together, he'd actually met each of Madison's closest friends in passing, as they infrequently came and went from her studio. They had always been careful not to display the true nature of their relationship though – and in fact, until the paperwork had come through, Sirius had kept his distance from Madison's guests altogether, lest they ask questions he could not answer with proof. Now that they were getting married, and he had to invariably seek the approval of his proposed wife's childhood friends, he couldn't help but feel nervous.

"Yes, _just_ 'those school friends'," said Madison, rolling her eyes. Shifting attention away from the matter at hand, she poked him in the side with a finger. "So, tell me, who are _you_ inviting, huh?"

"Just Moony, Dumbledore and maybe one of my cousins… one of my fellow disowned ones, that is," said Sirius, simultaneously looking forward to introducing his intended to the people he respected most and feeling rotten for leaving one name off the list of attendees.

"Oh great," said Madison, in mock terror. "Just the werewolf, your former headmaster and a _witch_ – and _you're_ the nervous one, ha!" Her face softened at Sirius' thoughtful look and she sighed. "I want Harry to be there too… but you told me yourself what Dumbledore said about his scar, and how he and Bunnywart are linked-"

At the image of the feared Lord Voldemort resembling a bunny covered in warts, Sirius couldn't help but laugh, the dam of emotions that had bubbled to the surface cascading into a hearty release of laughter. Madison had just joined in when her friends arrived, the intuitive group seeing upon first glimpse that the man their friend was with was well suited to her.

For perhaps the first time in a long time, Sirius Black had been worried for nothing.

END CHAPTER

Next chapter... 10th November.


	2. And then there were three

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine… anything new is a figment of my imagination. I'd also like to take the opportunity to state that this is _meant _to be a short, fast, story. I wrote it in a weekend, and like to think of it as something of a prelude to a bigger idea. Though what that _is_ exactly, my muse has failed to inform me…**

**Updated: Friday 10 November 2006.**

**Chapter 2**: **_And then there were three…_**

Madison and Sirius had been married in two separate ceremonies. Once, with the local parish chaplain where, for the benefit of Madison's Muggle friends, the marriage certificate read 'Mr & Mrs Patrick S. O'Ryan'; and then again privately, with Albus Dumbledore officiating the service and using their real names. The busy headmaster and Sirius' cousin, Andromeda, had reluctantly left shortly after the ceremony, but Sirius' oldest friend in the world, best man Remus Lupin, stayed on.

"Doesn't he just look the part of another little lost puppy," mused Madison, watching Remus stroll around the garden aimlessly from a window in her studio. Behind her, Sirius stood with his arms wrapped around her waist, his head resting on her right shoulder. Tilting her head to the right so as to rest her head against his, Madison sighed; "Do all you English boys look like that?"

"Nope, only us wizards," said Sirius lightly, though inwardly he was lamenting about the respective horrors said wizards had faced in order to look like that.

He needn't have elaborated any further, however, because Madison intuitively understood, the slight gesture of her hand reaching up to cup Sirius' cheek as he nuzzled her from behind conveying more than words alone ever could.

"I love you, Madison Black," said Sirius, his lips unable to stop grinning as his _wife's_ name rolled off his tongue.

Madison growled playfully, but grinned at her new surname.

"I love _you_, husband mine," she returned, craning her neck to the side to meet him in a chaste kiss. Pulling back momentarily, she smirked and gestured her head towards the scene outside. "Even if you invited your best man along for the honeymoon."

Before Sirius could retort, Madison stole his lips in another kiss, which quickly deepened. Soon out of breath, standing close in each other's arms with their foreheads touching, the pair paused to take stock of their good fortune.

"You don't really mind Moony being here, do you?" said Sirius quietly, a slight fear flickering across his face at the thought of being inconsiderate towards his beloved's needs.

"Of course not!" said Madison firmly, stroking Sirius' cheeks with both hands before carding her fingers through his soft hair. Sparing a look out the window, to where Remus Lupin was oblivious to their presence, she smiled sadly. "He's the closest thing to a brother that you have left in this world, and he was all alone…" she turned back to face her husband. "We may not be able to have Harry here with us, but if giving Remus a refuge and being there for him is something we can do, then I'm not about to stand in the way. This is as much your home as it is mine, and besides, having Moony here will undoubtedly help us around the property when, in a couple of months, I won't be able to do as much…"

Concern filled Sirius' face and he inhaled sharply.

"What's the matter? Are you ill?" he asked hurriedly, hands simultaneously flying to her forehead to check her temperature and wrapping around her waist, to hold her up.

"Oh, no," said Madison nonchalantly. "Only in the mornings… but I suspect that will go away in a few weeks…"

Blinking rapidly, Sirius stared at his wife for a few moments, the wheels in his mind slowly turning into alignment. Spluttering a few nonsensical words until the revelation hit him with full force, Madison could only watch in eager anticipation as her husband's expression passed from concern, to confusion, to rapturous joy.

"You're… you're… _pregnant_?" he gasped, eyes wide. "H-h-how did _that_ happen?"

Smiling wryly, Madison raised a brow suggestively.

"Are you asking for a demonstration, Mr Black?"

"N-n-no… I mean, _hell yes_," he had a hard time articulating himself as the implications settled in. "How… how far along…"

"About seven or so weeks," she said with a smile. "By Easter you're going to be a Daddy."

"Easter…" Sirius repeated dumbly, becoming a little overwhelmed at the prospect of _finally_ having a little somebody to call his own. Looking deep into his wife's eyes, Sirius realised that no one could take _this _child from him… no one could tell him that this baby was 'better off' with an aunt or uncle, or that it was 'safer' to keep certain things from him. All at once, Sirius Black felt a stab of guilt for not knowing when, if ever, his godson could be told of this whole secret life he'd built for himself. Now, he was no longer simply omitting his location in letters and neglecting to mention who was providing him shelter; now he was faced with keeping the news of his wife and unborn child from the boy he was supposed to be raising, and Sirius didn't think he could do that.

"You want to tell him, don't you?" said Madison softly, reading his face as though it were a child's picture book with extremely large text. "It means so much to you – do it. I'm sure Dumbledore is only being over-cautious-"

Sirius sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair before lowering it to rest instinctively on his wife's belly.

"I can't," he said in a choked voice. "Any time up til now you might have been able to convince me, but now…" he rubbed the deceptively flat stomach in emphasis, "…now there's the little one to consider. I can't do anything that could possibly endanger you. I can't tell Harry and _not_ bring him here – and yet to bring him here could lead _him_ to us…"

"Oh Sirius," said Madison sadly, her heart feeling her husband's pain as surely as it were her own, for she too wished that this strong, resilient young man could be present in their lives and a brotherly influence to their unborn child. "He'll know in time, and he'll understand… and if he doesn't, I'll make sure he does. Memories in a Pensive can't lie, right?"

"Pen_sieve_," Sirius corrected her, a warm look of adoration in his eyes. Dumbledore had, indeed, presented the newlyweds with their very own Pensieve as a wedding present. Through it, Sirius and Remus had been able to show Madison memories of their youth, and Dumbledore had begun to regularly send them vials of the silvery thought threads via his Phoenix, Fawkes, who periodically flashed into being with memories of Harry at school. While it frustrated Sirius that his godson did not quite know the extent by which his godfather thought of him and wanted to participate in his life, being able to witness pivotal moments of the boy's school years as though he was there firsthand was of some consolation. One day, Harry would find out everything, and when that day came, Sirius knew that the Boy-Who-Lived, with help of memories like these in the Pensieve, would be able to see just how much everybody cared for him. There was even a room for him at the lodge just waiting for him to arrive, just waiting for the threat to be over.

"Sirius… Sirius!" said Madison, calling the wandering mind of the Animagus back to attention. "I know you want Harry here, but don't you think there is another person already _here_ who deserves to hear the good news?"

Sirius followed Madison's gaze out the window and soon sported a smile to rival hers.

"Moony," he said softly, then, realising that the man could not hear him from so far away, he flung the windows open and yelled at the top of his lungs. "MOONY!"

In the garden below, a bewildered werewolf looked up from his silent musings and squinted up at his friend, not quite able to discern the nature of the married man's urgency.

"Yes, Padfoot?" he called up quizzically, twenty years of friendship conditioning him to hardly bat an eyelid at his friend's exuberant enthusiasm; the dog Animagus known for getting riled up at the smallest things.

"I'M PREGNANT!" Sirius shouted back in unadulterated glee, meaning to both say that Madison was pregnant and that he was going to be a Daddy, but the exciting revelation getting mixed up in translation.

Remus raised a brow.

"Oh really?" he drawled, deciding to poke fun by taking Sirius at his words; "and how, pray tell, did _that_ happen?"

Sirius was about to retort with a comment about his friend being in self-imposed celibacy for too long, that he'd forgotten about the birds and the bees, but Madison stopped him before words could come out of his opened mouth. Realising then, that he had just exclaimed that _he_ was pregnant, Sirius shook his head at his friend's literal interpretation.

"_Mad_'s pregnant, you daft git!" he called back to his friend, who was now steadily making his way up the exterior stairs that traversed up the side of the stables, headed towards the studio. "_We're_ having a baby!"

"I know," said Remus quietly, a goofy smile on his face as he strode in through the open doors and embraced the expectant mother in congratulations.

"You _knew_?" Sirius was flabbergasted, and he looked from his best friend to his wife in mild betrayal. "Did you tell him before me?"

Remus burst out laughing and pulled his 'brother' into a hug.

"No, _you_ daft git! You just told me!" said Remus, snorting derisively. "Or did you really think that I thought it was possible for a guy to get knocked up?"

Sirius cuffed his friend on the back of the head and growled unintelligibly. Remus retaliated in kind until Sirius transformed and started chasing the lithe lycan around the room. Leaning against the windowsill, lest she fall over with her laughter, Madison clapped a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to curb her giggles.

"Good grief, why do I feel as though I am about to have _three_ children, and not just one?" she said to no one in particular. "Thank heavens Harry, at least, can act his age…"

* * *

Phineas James Black was born several weeks premature, early that following March. He was named not for Sirius' great-great-grandfather, Phineas Nigellus, who was one of the least-favourite headmaster's in Hogwarts' history, but rather for the man's son, a great-great uncle who had been the first in the Black family to support Muggle rights. His middle name, James, both stood in recognition of Madison's maiden name, acknowledging her mother's precedent, and also as a homage to Sirius' lost friend.

In including 'James' in his son's name, the dog Animagus had wanted to pay equal homage to the surviving Marauder, but Remus would have nothing of it, declaring that to add anything to the baby's name would be 'adding names for the sake of adding names'. By way of compromise, the baby's Muggle birth certificate – one that was lodged to identify the infant as the son of Patrick S. O'Ryan and his wife, Madison O'Ryan – listed the child's name as Patrick John, the baby now officially sharing a middle name with his honorary uncle.

Accordingly, Madison's Muggle friends knew the baby as 'P.J', not quite realising that the moniker equally stood not only for Patrick John (as they had been told), but also for Phineas James and, in Marauding terms, Padfoot Junior. Privately, the adults had come to call the child Jamie, but whenever the boy did anything that was decidedly 'Sirius', he was proudly referred to as 'Junior', in much the same way as Harry had been called 'Pronglet'.

"The kid's going to have a identity crisis by the time he is two!" said Madison in exasperation as the said child crawled away from her at warp speed, ignoring her calls.

Across the room, Sirius slid off his chair and onto his hands and knees, where he began to chase his son in earnest.

"Relax, Mad," he said laughingly, as he trapped his squirming son between his taller arms and legs and, rolling the slippery nine-month-old onto his back, began to blow raspberries on his stomach. "Junior knows _exactly_ what he's doing, don't you kiddo? You've been deliberately ignoring your mother, haven't you?"

Innocent blue eyes gazed up at his father's twinkling grey, a gummy smile revealing two deceptively sharp front teeth. Babbling happily at his father's attention, little Jamie Black was oblivious to the stern talking-to his father was attempting to deliver, the child laughing fearlessly; effortlessly turning his father to mush in the process.

"I think that's a yes," said Sirius solemnly, looking up at his wife in apology, the look of pure joy on his face betraying his tone. "We're going to have a little home wrecker on our hands, Mad… this kid's his father's son all right."

"I wouldn't settle for anything less," said Madison, grinning at how happy they all were. Changing the subject, she began to eye the clock; "how long until Remus gets back, do you think?"

Ever since the previous November, the two Marauders had been periodically coming and going between Australia and England, both keen to meet their respective responsibilities in both worlds. With the assistance of Portkeys from Dumbledore and a Time Turner one of their mutual contacts had filched from the Ministry, the pair were able to alternatively honour their commitments, seemingly without any time passing for Madison and little Jamie.

This arrangement worked well for Sirius, who had then been able to travel to and from Hogsmeade to check in on his godson during the Triwizard tournament without leaving his family unattended for days at a time. Between living the same day twice and the time differences, however, the lifestyle undeniably took its toll on Sirius – each day he lived twice was an extra day he'd physically age – but it was a small price to pay for having his cake and eating it too.

For Remus, this enabled him to return to his semblance of a life in the wizarding world, so as to do occasional reconnaissance work for Dumbledore and dissuade the suspicions of anyone who might have been watching him. On the nights of the full moon, Remus would Portkey to his cottage in England to transform away from the baby, Sirius by his side. Whilst for Remus, three days would pass away from the mother and child who were the closest thing to a sister and nephew to him, Sirius would use the Time Turner to be in both places at once.

"Last night was the final night of the full moon," said Sirius, recalling what he'd done that night the first time round. "I wound the Time Turner back at 2pm the next day, and it's…" he cast a glance at one of his watches, of which one ran on England time, "early morning there at the moment… so we can probably expect him back a little after midnight, give or take."

"I'll make sure to have his bed ready and a potion of that pain relief stuff on the cool," said Madison routinely. As it turned out, the ingredients for many potions could be found growing within the rainforest and, incidentally, Madison had been brewing derivatives of established magical potions for years, passing them off as most Muggles did as 'Natural Therapies'. Borrowing from the books of her husband and his friend, Madison had since familiarised herself with the art of actual potion making, and whilst the absence of magic rendered her brews less effective, it didn't stop her from preparing ingredients and having Sirius do the actual wand-stirring that infused each brew with magic.

Nodding absently, Sirius' eyes travelled to the Muggle plastic Christmas tree that they had erected several weeks earlier. Whilst they all agreed that a real pine would not survive the humid heat of the tropical wet season they were in the midst of, Madison drew the line at conjuring pixies to light the tree. It would have been too much effort, she explained, to remember to banish the magical decorations whenever one of her clients or friends turned up on the beach. For that same reason, all photos around the house were frozen to look Muggle, and images depicting magical attire or Quidditch were specifically confined to safely-hidden albums.

Following her husband's gaze, Madison anticipated his thoughts, the man still being as easy to read as the first day she'd met him, stumbling and stammering on her private beach over eighteen months earlier. After Jamie had been born, Sirius had made the determined vow to tell Harry of his wife and young son by Christmas, so that he could spend his child's first Christmas with their family as a whole. But then Voldemort had to come back, reinforcing the risk, and Sirius had been left feeling conflicted ever since.

"Tell him," said Madison firmly, latching onto her husband's arm – the one that was not securely holding their son on his hip as they stood regarding the colourful decorations. When he looked at her, his eyes filled with a certain pain - one that no matter how happy their son or she made him would never go away so long as Harry was apart from them - Madison shook her head sadly. "Don't let our son's first Christmas be marred with regrets. Don't let your fears for us stop you from filling that hole in your heart… _he_ is winning right now-"

"I don't want to lose you," said Sirius brokenly, regaining his composure only when he paused to cuddle his son, the light weight of the child's small body reassuring him. "I'll never forgive myself if anything happened-"

"Nothing will happen," said Madison soothingly. "Voldemort may be able to find out we exist through Harry, but if we don't tell Harry about this place he'll never find us… and you said yourself that Grimmauld Place is impenetrable…"

"I can't do that," said Sirius sadly, turning to look at his wife pleadingly. "Once Harry knows about you he's going to ask where we've been all this time, and I can't bring myself to lie to him, or refuse to answer. It's the whole truth, or nothing at all…"

"That's a hardline to take, Sirius," said Madison, "but I understand."

Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed.

"We'll figure something out."

That 'something' had been Remus' brainchild. The decision, then, to inform the entire Order of Madison and Jamie's existence had not been made lightly; but Sirius knew that if it would enable his wife and son the opportunity to meet other wizards – to meet _Harry_ – then it was a small price to pay. Madison was right, after all… Grimmauld Place was impenetrably secure, and as long as they didn't tell anyone about their little slice of paradise, his family could be kept safe. To deter any unanswerable questions being asked, Sirius had taken to Remus' suggestion that his wife and son be introduced to non-Order members by their Muggle identities, Madison and P.J. O'Ryan. He felt rotten to disassociate himself from two of the most important people in his life, and he hated deceiving Harry by omission, but he could not help but acknowledge that this was the only compromise. He could only pray that, one day, Harry would understand why it had to be done.

Luckily, Jamie was at the trusting age, where he would be quite at ease in anyone's company. Any noticed preference the child exhibited towards either Sirius or Remus would only lend weight to the unspoken implication that Madison O'Ryan had come and gone from Order headquarters quite frequently during the term. Asides from the initial introduction, in which Madison had resigned herself to be pointed out to Harry in passing, along with a handful of unfamiliar Order members, it was hoped that the Boy-Who-Lived would conclude that she was simply another Order member. Whilst this invariably meant that Madison could not get too close to the boy she had come to look upon as a second son, both her and Sirius' attendance at meetings gave them the perfect excuse to call upon Harry to look after little P.J.

Of course, that would only work out if Harry wasn't too busy with his friends, and if one of them hadn't expressed more enthusiasm for the job first. The young family also had to hope (and pray) that their son didn't turn out to be an early talker… doing something incriminating like calling his father 'Da' in front of the oblivious teenagers. Telling Mrs Weasley the truth, and then expecting her to keep her overbearing opinions to herself was another variable they had to consider. That woman loved Harry like a son, and Sirius' concerns that she might not be able to see the reasons for their deceit from their point of view were not without their merit. Then there was the tiny matter of the wards at Grimmauld Place recognising Jamie as it's new heir, the knowledge passing on to both the house's incorrigible house elf and all the portraits.

"I don't think this is a good idea," blurted Sirius worriedly, as Madison dropped another bag at his feet to be shrunken for the journey. "There are so many things I am not going to be able to control…"

Madison snorted.

"Since when were _you_ a control freak?" she said, shifting their son's weight on her hip before relenting and handing the squirming child to his father. "Stop procrastinating and put your 'controlling skills' to good use while I make sure we have everything."

"I mean it, Madison," said Sirius exasperatedly, stepping over the ignored bag to follow his wife down the hall to their son's nursery, which sat across from Harry's room and was decorated in airy pastels of blue and white. Staring at the monsoonal rain that bucketed down outside the window, the humid climate causing fissures of steam to rise up as the moisture hit the deck outside, Sirius was abstractly grateful for his wand and the Cooling Charms he and Remus had kept up throughout the house.

Pulling a few well-loved stuffed toys from their son's crib and stuffing them into an overnight bag before straightening and facing her husband, Madison took the time to school her face into a determined mask.

"Don't you _dare_," she said in a low voice, careful to keep her tone unthreatening, lest she spook the baby. Wagging her finger at her husband, she shook her head. "Don't you dare take this away from me… from you… from Jamie… from _Harry_," she said firmly. "We've gone over the bases a hundred times… we're going a few days before the Christmas break begins so that you can take us Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley, pull the portraits and such in line, and introduce us to the Order;" she paused to take a breath, "what are you so worried about? Even if that portrait of your mother and that house elf, Screecher, don't obey you, no one is going to be inclined to listen to their insane ramblings! Bloody hell, Sirius, your mother's been dead for a decade, don't let her ruin this!"

Taking a deep breath, Sirius crossed the room and pulled his wife and son into an embrace.

"You're right… as usual," he admitted, kissing each person in turn on the top of the head, causing the smaller of the two to giggle and tug at the ends of his hair, which was growing out again. Holding his son close, he tightened his grip around his wife's waist and sighed contently. "Whatever would I do without the two of you? No… don't answer that…"

"You spoil all my fun," said Madison pouting as she pecked Sirius on the lips.

"And you make sure I remember to have mine," said Sirius warmly. "Pretty good trade if you ask me… but oh, Mad? It's _Kreacher_…"

Realising that her husband was attempting to correct her _again_, Madison scowled and hit him in the side with the small bag that she had stuffed full of plush toys. Handing the bag to him simply because the image of him juggling a baby in one hand and bag in the other was so unavoidably endearing, she stole from the room purposefully.

"C'mon, you oaf," she called over her shoulder. "Portkey is set to go in a minute, Remus and Buckbeak are already waiting for us on the other end!"

END CHAPTER 

**Next Chapter: _'Meeting Harry'_**

**Due: Wednesday 22nd November**


	3. Meeting Harry

**Disclaimer: Anything recognisable is shamelessly borrowed from _Order of the Phoenix_. May all Sirius' scenes in that book make the movie… bar one _wink_**

**Updated**: **Tuesday 28 November 2006. I know, I know, a few days off again, but the other girl in my department has gone on leave, and the new staff member we were supposed to have start _quit_ before she even began; so I've been rushed off my feet. Besides, there's also the _tiny_ matter of Christmas shopping, planning a surprise party, and _finally_ booking my holiday for next year… I'm hot and bothered just thinking about it – course it helps that it is nearly 100 degrees outside right now – and I won't even mention the rabid plot bunnies that have me chained to my _next_ story… oh, and I won't say anything of the site outtages...**

**But I thank you, emphatically, for your patience! **

**Chapter Three: _Meeting Harry_**

It was the middle of the night. Madison and Sirius had just managed to get their jet-lagged son to sleep in a small crib in their room, when the shouting voice of a portrait called their attention.

"Sirius! SIRIUS BLACK!" Phineas Nigellus' voice echoed down the hall, threatening to awaken their slumbering son. Wordlessly, Sirius motioned for Madison to stay with Jamie in case he woke up, and excused himself from the room, heading directly for the bedroom that had been his own as a child.

"What is it, Phin," he scowled at the canvas, dispensing with the use of titles since he had only ever really known the man at all through his portrait. Phinneas, in turn, allowed the little transgression to slide since the house's wards had identified Sirius' son as being named Phineas (of course, Sirius was not about to point out just who his son's namesake truly was).

"I have a message from Dumbledore," said Phineas boorishly, sounding altogether put out at being treated as a simple messenger. "He said to expect some visitors. Arthur Weasley's been _gravely_ injured. Potter and the redheads are en route."

"_Now_?" said Sirius, bewildered, all the things he had wanted to get done around the house before Harry arrived at the end of term now seeming out of reach.

"Soon enough," said Phineas impatiently, his voice grumbling at the imposition to his 'nap' time. "Dumbledore wants the toe-rags away before that Umbridge woman can intervene. So what should I tell the old man? He's expecting a reply… I'm nothing but a lowly messenger now…"

Sirius stifled a snort at the portrait's indignation and smiled at the prospect of seeing his godson early.

"Tell Albus I'd be delighted," he said, before excusing himself to pass on the news to his wife.

* * *

"I'll stay up here with Jamie… bring him down in the morning," said Madison levelly once Sirius had told her.

"Are you sure?" Sirius questioned her.

"I'm sure," said Madison. "If Arthur Weasley is hurt, those children are not going to be in the frame of mind for introductions. Besides, I don't trust that house elf enough to leave Jamie upstairs by himself, and he needs to sleep."

"Fine, leave me to watch five sleepy, worried teenagers by myself, then," Sirius grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"Fine, I will," said Madison, smiling wryly. "You could use the practice, you know…"

At her husband's puzzled look, she smirked.

"What, you think I want to stop at one?"

"You're not pregnant again, are you?" asked Sirius, caught off-guard. As much as he wanted to fill the house with children, he was so wrapped up in Jamie, and then Harry, that he didn't know how he could possibly split his time with another child just yet.

"No," said Madison, sharing his sentiment. One baby was plenty so long as the situation with Harry was ongoing. Having been an only child herself, she appreciated the virtues of quality over quantity. More children would come, of that she was sure, but not for a few years at least, when the boys were older.

Pecking his wife on the cheek and hugging her briefly, Sirius hovered over their son's crib for a moment before retreating downstairs to wait for the unplanned houseguests. He was not looking forward to the time when, for the sake of maintaining their cover, he had to move into a room separate from his family. Then again, being master of the household and having the power to manipulate the wards – and the walls – at will _did_ have its advantages.

No sooner had he entered the kitchen was he greeted with the sight of five disorientated teenagers sprawled on the basement floor, his abhorrent excuse of a house elf spitting vile comments at them.

"OUT!" he roared at the disobedient elf. Then, reaching out a hand to assist the youngest Weasley child to her feet, he looked over the teens' dishevelled bedclothes in concern. For the kids to be pulled out of bed in the middle of the night, not given a chance to change or grab any personal belongings, things had to be serious. He put voice to his questions.

"What's going on? Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured-"

"Ask Harry," said one of the twins, Sirius could not determine which.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said the other.

Sirius could only listen with mounting dread as his godson described his vision, knowing without question that the boy was holding something back. As much as he would like to believe that Harry had witnessed the attack from a third person point of view, with what little they knew of the boy's cursed connection with Voldemort, it didn't make sense. Instead, Sirius suspected that Harry had witnessed the attack firsthand, which then broached the question of how Voldemort was linked to his snake, Nagini; but instead of mulling over all the questions he'd have for Dumbledore later, Sirius could not help but feel a stab of sympathy for the injured man's children. Provided that Harry's vision had enabled his distant cousin to receive medical attention in time, the man's chances of survival were severely limited.

"Is Mum here?" said one of the twins, turning to him. Sirius was pretty sure it was Fred, though he couldn't be entirely sure.

"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," he replied. "The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."

"We've got to go to St Mungo's," said Ginny urgently. She looked around at her brothers; they were of course still in their pyjamas. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything?"

"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St Mungo's!" said Sirius, panic lacing his tone. If the children's persistence led to them doing something drastic – like using under-aged magic – he alone would stand no match for them. With Remus away for a few days on an errand for Dumbledore, he, Madison and Jamie were the only people in the house.

"Course we can go to St Mungo's if we want," said one of the twins, with a mulish expression. "He's our dad!"

"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital had even let his wife know?" said Sirius exasperatedly.

"What does that matter?" said the other twin hotly.

"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" said Sirius angrily, knowing in that instant that he _could_ take on the teenagers if need be – just as he would do _anything_ to protect his family, inclusive of Harry. Trying to talk sense into them, rather than resorting to magically restraining them, he pressed on. "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"

Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was still ashen-faced and silent, whilst beside him, Harry looked as though he wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and escape the proposed attention.

"Somebody else could have told us… we could have heard it somewhere other than Harry," said Ginny.

"Like who?" said Sirius impatiently. Changing tactics, he preyed upon their Gryffindor sense of honour. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's-"

"We don't care about the dumb Order!" shouted one twin.

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" yelled the other.

"Your father knew what he was getting into and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" said Sirius, equally angry. Inwardly, he was filled with a foreboding sense of panic whereby if the Weasley children could not see the reasons why they could not just up and leave to be at their father's side, then he had no hope of having Harry understand the reasons for his deceptions. Forgetting who he was talking to, he began to yell. "This is how it is – this is why you're not in the Order – you don't understand – there are things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" bellowed Fred… at least Sirius was 90 sure it was Fred. "I don't see you risking your neck!"

The little colour remaining in Sirius' face drained from it, and he reeled back as though he had just been struck. Fred's words cut deep… for as much as he would have liked to have been doing something worthwhile for the cause, thus lessening the burden on his godson's shoulders, his son and wife – a baby and a Muggle – were dependent upon his protection. While he looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hit the twin who had spoken out against him, when he next spoke, it was with a voice of determined calm. The mere thought that he had not only spoken to a distraught child like that, but that his wife may have heard and that he may one day lose control like that in front of his own son, was enough to humble him.

"I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?"

Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at him in silent thanks, before looking at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and a shrug, before sitting down. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats either side of Ginny.

"That's right," said Sirius encouragingly, consciously trying to keep the relief from his tone. "Come on, let's all… let's all have a drink while we're waiting. _Accio Butterbeer_!"

He raised his wand as he spoke and half a dozen bottles came flying towards them out of the pantry, skidded along the table, scattering the debris of an earlier meal, and stopped neatly in front of the six of them. They all drank, and for a while the only sounds were those of he crackling of the kitchen fire and the soft thud of their bottles on the table.

The minutes dragged into a indeterminable period of time. Sitting across from his godson, watching the conflict of emotions wash over the distracted boy's face, Sirius wanted nothing more than to take the lonely teenager into his arms and welcome him into the life he and Madison had built for themselves, and little Jamie. In the dead of the night, as his mind became more and more addled by fatigue and worry for the Weasley's father, Sirius began to question the staples he had dictated his life by. Suddenly, the idea that Grimmauld Place could be the only impenetrable safe hold outside of Hogwarts became unreasonable, his over-active mind fighting to engineer a way in which Paradise Lodge could be just as thoroughly protected. After all, what is to say that the safest place for Harry was at Hogwarts, followed by loveless summers with his horrible Muggle relatives? Why couldn't Harry be home tutored by a number of trusted professionals, learning by a customised curriculum that would only heighten his chances of besting his enemies? Arthur Weasley's brush with death had shaken him to the core, serving as a startling reminder that life was short and he couldn't take anything for granted. To wait, then, until such time that Voldemort was defeated – or the link between boy and wizard severed – was sheer lunacy. Anything could happen between now and then.

Before Sirius could contemplate excusing himself from the kitchen to run upstairs and run the idea past his wife, a burst of fire in midair illuminated the dirty plates in front of them. Having become well accustomed to that particular form of communication, Sirius ignored the teenager's cries of shock, and deftly caught the scroll of parchment that he knew was bound to come. Reaching out and picking up the golden phoenix tail feather that he'd allowed to flutter to the table top, he held it up for the teenagers to see, as though it explained everything.

"Fawkes," he elaborated, before turning his attention to the scroll in his hand. "That's not Dumbledore's writing – it must be a message from your mother – here - "

He thrust the letter into George's hand, who ripped it open and read aloud: '_Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.'_

George looked around the table.

"Still alive…" he said slowly. "But that makes it sound…"

He did not need to finish the sentence. All knew without being told that Arthur Weasley was hovering somewhere between life and death. Sirius could only watch helplessly, as the children around him absorbed this fact. Still exceptionally pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother's letter as though it might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of his twin's hand and read it for himself, then looked up at Harry, who Sirius noticed, was gripping his Butterbeer bottle with shaking hands. Reaching across the table wordlessly, Sirius grabbed Harry's wrist and squeezed it comfortingly. If he had his way, he would have leapt across the table and wrapped the boy up in a protective embrace, but he was only too painfully aware of how little they really knew each other, and how unwelcome such ministrations might be received. When Harry accepted his action with a shy smile, however, Sirius could not help but be filled with undeniable joy. It took all his resolve to the let go of his godson's arm, lest he begin to appear a little strange.

Settling himself down for a long wait for news, Sirius suggested once, without any real conviction, that the children all go to bed. He himself, meanwhile, was not tired thanks to still being on Queensland time, but the teenagers, he could see, were fighting to stay awake. When his suggestion was met with looks of disgust, he decided not to push his luck. Casting his mind back to Madison's labour, which was not only full of complications for her, but life-threatening for their son who, at just over seven months gestation, was not yet fully developed, Sirius could only sympathise with a person's inability to rest while someone they loved was in trouble. Looking over to Harry, whose gaze was lost in the flickering flame of the candle in the centre of the table, Sirius could only wonder if the boy would ever know how Madison had resorted to drugging him in order to get him to sleep whilst the Triwizard Tournament was on.

At ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch – Sirius had come to not rely on his own since it always seemed to be inaccurate no thanks to his usage of Time Turners and living in two time zones – the kitchen door swung open and Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen. She was extremely pale, and for a moment Sirius felt bad for not having the foresight to at least pack the children off into another room so that the arriving woman could have a chance to collect herself before passing on her news; but when the three teenaged boys rose to their feet to greet the tired woman, she gave a wan smile.

"He's going to be all right," she confirmed Sirius' hopeful suspicions, her voice weak with tiredness. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now; he's going to take the morning off work."

Fred fell back into his chair with his hands over his face. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother and hugged her. Ron gave a very shaky laugh and downed the rest of his stale Butterbeer in one.

"Breakfast!" said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to his feet. Madison was onto a good thing when she confided in him the value of food and how it could dispel any mood. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!"

But Kreacher did not answer the summons.

"Oh, forget it, then," muttered Sirius, counting the people in front of him, his lips curling into a smile as he began to speculate which, if any, of the people in the room would catch that he'd counted two too many. "So, it's breakfast for – let's see – _nine_… bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast - "

"Nine?" questioned Harry, coming up alongside him, the blessed boy intent on helping with breakfast. Sirius beamed proudly at his godson's deductive abilities.

"There's two more upstairs," he said nonchalantly. "I dare say they'll be lured down by the smell of bacon… you'll meet them soon enough."

"Oh," said Harry, evidently assuming, as planned, that Madison and James were mere Order members and thus, unimportant to him.

Before Sirius could take the opportunity to bait his godson some more – Gryffindor curiosity being so malleable – Mrs Weasley had swept the boy up in a hug and was thanking him thoroughly for saving her husband's life. When he noticed the look of discomfort on the boy's face, Sirius subtly drew attention to himself by clanging pans on the stove. As predicted, the weary Weasley woman turned her attentions from Harry and began to thank him for his hospitality. After assuring her that he really didn't mind having them to stay, and sincerely inviting the family to stay as long as it took, he had just been about to excuse himself, leaving the placated woman to the breakfast preparations to get her mind off of things, when Harry grabbed his attention.

"Sirius," Harry muttered, unable to stand it a moment longer. "Can I have a quick word? Er – _now_?"

Following his godson into the dark pantry, Sirius could only listen as Harry, without preamble, began to tell him the unabridged version of his vision. After assuring his godson that he was being unreasonable and that he wasn't going crazy… that he was in shock and needed to rest, he clapped the boy on the shoulder awkwardly and excused himself, bound for upstairs. Now, he decided, would not be a good time for Madison and Jamie to make their appearances… no, it was better to take breakfast to them and introduce them over lunch, once everyone had had some sleep.

* * *

"He blames himself," said Sirius bluntly, as he spoon fed Jamie some scrambled eggs and recounted the night's events to his wife, who was not entirely happy at having to wait a little while longer. "The connection is stronger than we could have anticipated, rising up within him while he was consciously aware of it."

"What does that mean?" asked Madison in a hushed whisper, her hands busying themselves braiding her hair. Looking at her husband's reflection in the mirror, where he sat behind her on their bed feeding their son, she halted her hands. "Is… is he _safe_?"

"We don't know," said Sirius, troubled. Merely implying that his godson could be an unwitting danger to himself and others was a hard pill to swallow, especially when a bulk of his firsthand memories of the boy involved a innocent, carefree toddler, much like his son was fast becoming. Pulling a face at his son, who was getting a little impatient at Sirius' distraction and reaching for the spoon in his hand, he steeled himself. "That he felt like attacking Dumbledore, but _didn't_, and that he could shake the Imperius Curse off last year is in his favour. Albus doesn't seem to think that Voldemort is even consciously aware of the connection, and that if he were, so long as Harry was surrounded by love, he can't fully possess him."

Madison lowered her hands and turned to face her husband, shaking her head.

"We all know he's not 'surrounded by love' over the summer," she said leadingly.

"Are you suggesting that we take him?" said Sirius hopefully. As much as he tried to convince himself that he was leaving Harry to his Muggle relatives for the sake of the Blood Wards and respecting Dumbledore's wishes, he just knew that he would change his mind in an instant if his wife told him otherwise.

"No," said Madison, closing the distance between the dresser and the bed so as to rest one knee on the edge of the mattress and lean in towards her husband. Kissing his nose, she held his gaze with cool determination glinting in her eyes. "I _insist_."

Grinning wildly at his wife's decision, Sirius turned his attention back to their squirming son, who was, by now, feeling slightly put out at not being the centre of attention. Blindly spooning a mouthful of food into the child's mouth to pacify him, he looked at his wife in question.

"You haven't even met him yet!" he said in disbelief. "What if you don't like him? Would you change your mind?"

"There's no way that I won't _love_ him as much as you do, Sirius Black!" said Madison, sounding slightly put out. "Between Pensieve memories and how much you and Moony talk about him, he doesn't belong anywhere else, but with us."

His heart warmed by the unmovable decisiveness in his wife's tone, Sirius was overjoyed that he had found someone who could accept his godson and share his responsibility so unconditionally. Rising to settle their son down in his playpen, as soon as he had his hands free he clasped his wife's hands in his own and pulled her close.

"I love you forever, you know that?" he said huskily, too overwhelmed by the strength of his emotion to convey it physically.

"Ditto," Madison threw back at him, resting their foreheads together.

"Promise me something?" he asked solemnly. Ever since he had caught word of Arthur Weasley's attack, the question of his own mortality had niggled at the back of his mind, and now he sought reassurance.

"Anything," said Madison, her tone betraying that she likely had already anticipated what he was about to say, as usual.

"If anything ever happens to me…" he began, only to be cut off by Madison's fingers on his lips.

"Sirius…" she said quietly, shaking her head.

"No, Madison," said Sirius, shaking his head free from her fingers. "I need to say it."

"All right," said Madison softly, her eyes not leaving his.

Sirius took a breath.

"If anything ever happens to me…" he exhaled shakily and forced his eyes to stay fixed on the soft brown orbs of his wife's. "If anything ever happens to me, promise me that you'll take Harry away from all this?"

Madison nodded without hesitation, and Sirius went on to elaborate.

"Hopefully, he'll know everything by then, and he'll be old enough to not even need you… but if not, show him the Pensieve and do your best to explain? I love him so much, Mad, it hurts… it's going to tear my heart out to put him back on that train in three weeks, to have him not know what you and Jamie mean to me… to him. Promise me that he'll understand, and for Merlin's sake don't let Dumbledore push you into any corners."

"I won't," said Madison, straightening herself up and looking at her husband determinedly.

Sirius cut her off.

"I mean it, Madison… Dumbledore… he means well, but he can be as slippery as a Slytherin when he wants to be," said Sirius. "I can't update my Will without going to the Ministry, and so Harry stands to inherit everything unless Dumbledore registers the details of our marriage. You know he's not to do that until my name gets cleared, but if something happens to me before that happens, I have a feeling he'll put it off in order to deny your right to claim guardianship of Harry…"

When Madison opened her mouth to protest, Sirius silenced her with a hand to her mouth.

"As long as I am a fugitive, my rights are null and void, leaving him to those Muggles; but technically, if Dumbledore had filed the papers the day I married you, you would have acquired the right to guardianship as surely as if James and Lily had given it to you themselves. Pronglet could have been with us as early as last Christmas, but I listened to Dumbledore's concerns about safety and the boy's connection with Voldemort…"

He took a breath.

"Waiting for Molly to come back with news on Arthur, I realised that if we really put out minds to it, we could make Paradise Lodge as safe a sanctuary for all of us as this place here. All the reasons why we've been keeping Harry at arm's length have become redundant… hell, if Arthur wasn't in hospital and we had the privacy to explain everything to Harry right now, I would tell him everything."

He cupped his wife's face in his hands and smiled through the tears that were unwittingly cascading down his cheeks.

"He's going to know by summer, one way or another. Soon as the wards are up. He's going to come _home_. Promise me? Don't let me be talked out of it!"

"I promise," said Madison, whispering, tears of her own leaking from her eyes.

Kissing away his wife's tears, he pulled her into a hug and, burying his face into her hair, he tickled her ear with his lips as he continued to impart his urgent message.

"Don't let Dumbledore hold anything over you. He doesn't know it, but I switched the Marriage Certificate that morning on the beach… just in case he refuses to submit them. Moony and Andy know what to do, so don't worry about that. Once the date is recorded at the Ministry, you and Jamie will automatically become my heirs, and you will get to decide what happens with Harry if anything happens to me - "

"Which it _won't_," said Madison firmly, holding onto her husband tightly, feeling a little unsettled by his sudden desire to plan for a future without him present.

"Not if I can bloody well help it," Sirius agreed with his wife, feeling as though a weight had been lifted now that he had let his wishes be known to his wife. Cradling her face once more, he looked into her eyes a final time. "Promise me?"

"With all my heart and soul," Madison vowed. "I feel as though Harry is as much mine as Jamie is. Haven't I been trying to get you to bring him home since we married? I'll always only ever want what's best for him. You can count on me for that."

"Have I told you how much I love you?" said Sirius, looking as though he might break out into tears once more.

"Only twice in the past five minutes," said Madison teasingly. Steering her husband towards the bed, she turned down the sheets and, pushing him down on the mattress, proceeded to tuck him in like an infant. At his bewildered expression, she smirked. "Not what you were expecting me to do, eh? Need I remind you that our _son_ is present in the room, and _some _of us need some sleep."

Sitting beside her husband as he drifted off to sleep – for he did still occasionally suffer from nightmares when left alone – Madison then busied herself playing with their son quietly and finishing off her breakfast, until she could hear the sounds of the other occupants of the house slipping up to bed to catch up on the sleep that had been lost. Once she was certain that the coast was clear, Madison gathered Jamie up in her arms, picked up a small carry-all full of toys, and headed downstairs to the living room so that Jamie could play on the rug by the magical Christmas Tree as she read some.

A few hours later, just before lunch, Madison's keen ears could pick up on the sound of scuffling footsteps coming down the stairs. With the house being made unplottable, noises from the traffic outside did not cross the threshold, and after being accustomed to the constant thrum of nature rustling in the wind and filling her house back home, the unnatural silence of the ancient house of Black made her particularly susceptible to the smallest of sounds. Spotting a blur of dark hair as it peeked in through the doorway before retreating shyly, Madison smiled wryly to herself and tried not to sound too excited as she spoke.

"Hello, Harry," she said as neutrally as possible. Looking up from her babbling son to catch the eye of the bewildered teenager who had reappeared in the doorway, she smiled disarmingly. "Couldn't sleep, eh?"

Harry frowned slightly and flattened his fringe over his forehead nervously. Madison had a feeling that had she not had a baby crawling around at her feet, he might have pulled his wand and mistaken her for an intruder; with a sad pang in her heart, she could hardly blame him.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly, not moving from the doorway.

"Madison O'Ryan," she said in a convincing Irish accent. Sirius had mentioned to her in passing whilst they were having lunch incognito in the middle of Diagon Alley the previous day, that it might raise too many questions if she were to come from a country so far away, and so she had been only too willing to put her natural abilities as a mimic to the test. Growing up, her mother had taken her around the world on her grandfather's yachts, and she had met people from all walks of life. Whilst her mother died when she was 11 and she had lived almost exclusively with her ailing father in the years that followed, regular trips with her maternal grandparents until their respective deaths and her budding clientele on the continent had ensured that her 'skills' were kept up to scratch.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs O'Ryan," said Harry, looking from the baby on the ground to her left ring finger before determining her title. "I'm Harry Potter, but I guess you already knew that."

Hearing the slight resentment in her unofficial godson's voice, Madison sought a way around it.

"Yep, but only because you're the only teenager under this roof who doesn't have red hair," she said, winking. "Don't worry, my powers of deduction astound even me!"

Feeling increasingly at ease, Harry slid a few steps into the room, curious eyes unable to leave the small person crawling around on the rug, completely oblivious to all else in the room as he busied himself chewing on pieces of the magical building block set Sirius had charmed for his son the moment they'd arrived.

"Who's that?" Harry blurted, his cheeks flushing red when he realised how abrupt he'd been in all his curiosity. He was halfway through an apology when Madison cut him off with a laugh.

"First of all, call me Madison… all my friends do," said Madison, looking at Harry pointedly. "Secondly, it should be _me_ apologising for neglecting to introduce you to my unfortunate spawn. Harry, meet Jamie. Jamie… this is Harry."

Hearing his name being called, Jamie looked up at the strange bespectacled boy staring at him and smiled his gummy smile, which in turn caused a chain reaction with all the other occupants of the room. All too late did Madison realise that she had just introduced her son as 'Jamie', and not 'Patrick John' as what his identification as an O'Ryan read.

'_Oh well_,' she sighed to herself. The entire Order already knew who they really were, and it was not as though a bunch of teenagers would ask to see a baby's identification.

"How old is he?" asked Harry conversationally, stepping a little further into the room. Without preamble, Jamie crawled out of reach of his mother's grasp and torpedoed towards Harry… almost as though he could actually sense that this newcomer was asking after him. Suddenly finding himself with a barrel of drooling toddler clinging to his feet, Harry's face resembled a fish out of water as he stood, stock still, not knowing what to do with himself.

"It's okay," laughed Madison, knowing that in absence of a camera, she could always have her husband remove the memory from her mind for their Pensieve. "You can pick him up if you want."

"I… er… uh… _how_?" Harry spluttered, reaching down momentarily, only to straighten back up in horror, as though he was about to do something wrong.

"You haven't been around babies before, have you?" said Madison, shaking her head n a bid not to laugh at the scene before her. "It's all right… he wouldn't have come to you if he didn't want you to pick him up."

"He… he wants me to pick him up?" said Harry in shock, mouth agape. "Why me?"

Sensing that Harry's sense of self-worth had been damaged by the time spent with his Muggle relatives, Madison fought the protective demon that threatened to rear its head and smother both boys with love and assurance. Keeping herself in check when she reminded herself that she was not supposed to figure very highly in Harry's life until the truth came out that following summer, she took a deep breath, vowing to use her son as her conduit.

"Why not?" she quipped. "Babies are said to be great judges of character, you know, and Jamie here is pretty intuitive for a nine month old. I don't think I've seen him head for a stranger as quickly as he abandoned me for you!"

Looking down at the baby in disbelief, concern passed over Harry's features when the child began to grizzle.

"Is he okay?" said Harry, panicking slightly.

"He's fine," said Madison. "He's just getting sulky because you're ignoring him – you'd better pick him up, unless you want to have him start wailing!"

Eyes wide, Harry automatically bent down and swooped the child up in his arms; once he had quelled any risk of the infant crying and waking up the household, he stood there uncomfortably, not quite knowing how to hold the child.

"It's okay, he won't break," said Madison, getting far too much enjoyment out of this than what she thought was right.

"What if I am holding him too tightly?" said Harry, reflexively loosening his grip, only to panic and hold tight again once the boy started squirming, becoming a little irritated that he was being held out like a sack of potatoes and not cuddled close how he was accustomed to being held. "What if I drop him?"

"Don't worry, he'll bounce," said Madison with a laugh. Noticing the disgruntled look on her son's face, she nodded towards the infant; "and don't worry, he'll let you know if you're doing something wrong."

"Oh…" said Harry, holding the child up so as to have Jamie's face in his eye line. He was halfway through saying hello to the child when he recognised the indignant look on the baby's face as an expression that was permanently ingrained on his cousin's face whenever the whale of a boy did not get his way. Looking over the baby's shoulder in alarm, he looked towards Madison for help. Defeat in his tone, he closed the distance between them and held out her son to her. "I don't think he likes me!"

"Nonsense," Madison shook her head, nudging her son in the back, pushing him back towards the bewildered Boy-Who-Lived. "Hold him closer, you big oaf! Try to look at it from Jamie's perspective – how would _you_ like to be held up four feet in the air, at arm's length? Seat him in the crook of your arm and balance his weight on your hip… let him get a hold of your shirt… that's it!"

Watching as Harry awkwardly followed her advice, and paying specific attention to how her son babbled happily in his arms, Madison's heart melted when she saw the effect Jamie's acceptance was having on Harry. It became all too clear that Harry had not really had anyone who had, in his living memory anyway, taken to him so innocently, without him first being someone's son, or the Boy-Who-Lived.

"I think you've found yourself a friend for life," said Madison cryptically, smiling as Jamie gripped little hands around Harry's neck and began to slobber on his ear; the toddler having shortly given up on trying to wretch the boy's glasses from his face.

"Is he_ chewing_ on my ear?" said Harry in disbelief, looking as though he didn't know whether to be amused at the tickling sensation, or grossed out.

Madison couldn't hold it in any longer, she laughed.

"If you want him to stop, you have to distract him," suggested Madison, once she had regained control over her voice. Reaching over and snapping her fingers by her son's ear, she called to him. "Jamie, Jamie! Look at Mama… Harry can't understand the secrets you are trying to tell him! No, he can't! C'mon, Jamie – Bear, save your whispering for when you can say words, hmm?"

Harry watched on, speechless, as mother interacted with son, a small pang situating itself in his heart as he witnessed firsthand the kind of tolerant attention he had missed out on for almost his entire life. Realising, then, that Jamie had made no move to reach out for his mother, but was now resting contently on his hip, clapping his hands and babbling at him, Harry found that he didn't want to let the kid go just yet.

"You're a natural," said Madison happily, after Harry had instinctively sat himself on the ground and began playing with the blocks with Jamie on his lap. The revelation that Harry appeared to be as fascinated by the charmed blocks as her son, remained an unspoken observation until Harry drew attention to it.

"I think I'm having as much fun as your son," he admitted sheepishly, tearing his eyes away from the magical toys that were scattered before them. "I didn't get to see any of this, growing up Muggle, I mean…"

Madison nodded in understanding, but knew that Harry was talking about more than just magical toys. Fighting back the urge to probe him with questions and declare her loyalty to him, she decided to play dumb and extract answers from him in a more round about fashion.

"Did you have any younger kids around you while you were growing up?" she asked casually. "You're very patient with him, I mean."

"No, my cousin is a month older than me," said Harry distractedly, his sense of safety and security when in the company of this strange woman and her son causing him to open up unwittingly. "I always wondered what it would be like to have a younger brother or sister though… you know, to have a little someone to look out for and have follow me around;" his eyes slipped out of focus as he became even more unguarded. "It wasn't until I met the Weasleys that I saw that it was even possible for two children growing up in the same home to get along…"

"You don't get along with your cousin, then?" asked Madison, leaping on the opportunity to ask the question.

"No," said Harry shortly, a bit of wariness creeping into his eyes. "Even though there's only a month between us, I was always so much smaller than him, and he treated me like I saw all the other kids treating their younger siblings at school; only I got it worse since I was just his cousin and not a direct relation."

Madison had wanted to hug Harry to her at that moment and never let go, but she restrained herself. She wanted to scowl and curse the Dursleys for segregating Harry in their household and letting him believe that to be anything less than a son or a brother made him inferior… a burden. Just like with Sirius, Madison found she could read a lot further into Harry's demeanour than what he visibly let on, and as she sensed the amount of pain and rejection his relatives had dealt to him over the years, she wanted nothing more than to break her promise to Sirius and tell him everything, then and there.

As though he were channelling his father, Jamie chose that moment to bite down a little too hard on a block, causing him to cut another tooth and start crying. Her attention swiftly removed from all she wanted to tell Harry, she assured the panicking boy that Jamie's distress was quite normal for a teething baby and his sudden crying had nothing to do with anything he may have done. Regretfully excusing herself to take Jamie upstairs for some teething gel and a nap, she promised admitted that she wasn't sure when they would be able to resume their conversation, but promised that he could play with Jamie whenever he wanted, provided that he promised to be responsible for him when around the other teenagers. At the thought of being chosen for a task based on his own qualifications and not his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry beamed, and was left alone in the room to secretly play with Jamie's blocks – which Madison had purposefully left behind – feeling, for the first time, that he had a purpose in life outside of being the Dursley's slave or Hogwarts' Hero: he was now trusted to be the preferred babysitter of a nine-month-old baby.

* * *

"I can't believe I missed it," said Sirius for the hundredth time since reliving his wife and son's meeting with Harry in their Pensieve. "You should have woken me up!"

"No way," said Madison, "you needed sleep, and having you there would have been like a security blanket for Harry. With just him and I in the room, with Jamie, he had no choice but to make conversation with me…" she cast him a coy look. "Besides, I am not entirely confident that you are able to be in the same room as me yet and not come across as a lovesick husband. Maybe when we're in a crowded room you can, but I don't think we'd have been able to keep it up with just the four of us in a room, do you?"

"You're right… _as usual_…" growled Sirius exasperatedly, flopping back on the bed he was sitting on, replaying this godson's morning in his mind. Remus had arrived shortly after Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks had turned up to accompany Molly and the kids to St Mungo's, and together they had seen to it that a connecting door between Madison's room and his own was created, unable to be seen by eyes that did not first know it was there.

Jamie having slept through lunch, had exhausted himself attempting to eat a late lunch which his father and 'uncle' had _attempted_ to feed him after everyone had left. Feeling no guilt at leaving Remus to tidy the food-tornado that had hit the kitchen, Sirius had insisted on 'helping' Madison put their son down for his afternoon nap, something that both had been rather keen to do now that they had a separate bedroom at their disposal.

"Don't you feel any shame at all?" said Madison after checking on their sleeping son one last time before closing the interconnecting door behind her softly and pouncing on her husband on the bed. "Moony's downstairs all alone, and he's not an idiot…"

Sirius harrumphed and rolled them over, reversing their positions.

"Right, and either he accepts that Jamie was an immaculate conception, or he acknowledges full well that we have silencing charms around our room and go at it like rabbits every chance we get!"

"You better not kiss and tell, Sirius Black!" said Madison, horrified that she may not ever be able to look her husband's best friend in the eyes again.

"Mmmm.." murmured Sirius distractedly, nuzzling her neck and inhaling her perfume. "I'll have you know that I am far too breathless after _kissing_ you to say much of anything…"

"So I've noticed," said Madison wryly, snaking her arms around her husband's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. "Now shut up and kiss me!"

"What about Moony?" said Sirius teasingly, pulling back.

Growling softly, Madison craned her neck upwards and peppered her husband's face with kisses, kissing him between each word.

"Bugger – it! – He – is – a – grown – man! – If – he – is – lonely – he – can – read – a – bloody – book! – Not – our – fault – that – he – thwarts – all – our – attempts – to – match – him – up - "

Sirius cut her off, and reversed their roles, this time smothering her in kisses between words; only his had a more defined sense of direction and purpose.

"No – more – talking – about – Moony – in – bed!" he growled, a pained expression on his face.

Their mouths were demonstrably too preoccupied to form words after that.

END CHAPTER: OK, that's about as explicit as I get at romantic mush…

NEXT CHAPTER? Harry gets to baby sit, Ron almost has a panic attack, and Jamie gets a new Marauder nick name after he drives Snape to the nearest… _Laundromat_?

DUE: First week of December.


	4. Marauders At Play

**Disclaimer: No… not mine…**

**Updated: Saturday 9 December 2006**

**Chapter Four: _Marauders at Play_**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sirius asked his wife as she struggled to get a wiggling leg inside a powder-blue romper suit. "It's his _first_ Christmas…"

"Yes, and I've been up with him since four, thanks to our son's stubborn determination to not acclimatise to this time zone!" said Madison shortly. Realising that she was losing patience, she stopped and took a calming breath. "Look, don't make me feel like a rotten mother, all right? I am only listening to what my traitorous body needs… and right now, that is another three hours sleep;" she zipped up her son's fleecy romper in triumph. "Harry doesn't know you are Jamie's father, and I think now is the perfect opportunity to give them some time together. I _know_ it is Christmas morning, but I also know first hand what it's like to wake up to all your friends opening presents from their parents and feeling left out… and so do you. Holidays just aren't the same after you've lost your parents; trust me Harry will welcome the distraction."

"I don't feel right about dumping Jamie on him though," said Sirius quietly, his voice pained by the reminder that James and Lily could not be there for their son. "We don't know Harry well enough to know what he'd want - "

"I didn't 'know' you well enough that morning on the beach to open my home, and my heart, to you that day," said Madison pointedly; "but I did it, and you want to know why? Intuition…" – she smiled at her husband – "…I got it right with you, didn't I? Trust me on this? Please, Sirius, you know I can't be seen giving Harry an actual present… let me do this for him at least!"

"You want to give Harry our son for Christmas?" said Sirius with an incredulous smirk.

"Only until after breakfast," said Madison. "You did say you wanted to watch them interact. C'mon, it'll do him good to feel trusted with the task, I know it will! The poor kid's been down about something ever since they got back from St Mungo's, Sirius, and I can't take him into my arms and squeeze the pain out of him, like I want to. I can't show him how I feel about him, so please, Sirius, let me at least show him that I trust him with our son!"

Taken aback by just how much his wife had thought about his and how strongly she felt about giving Harry the chance to not only bond with Jamie, but be shown that he was trusted in that way, Sirius relented.

"Y'know, Molly is going to try and take him off his hands," said Sirius, "and I'm going to have a hard time being at the breakfast table and slacking off-"

"Oh, like you've never done _that_ before!" said Madison knowingly, leaving Sirius no room to argue. Balancing Jamie on her hip, she reached over to a small slip of parchment that she had left on her bedside table. Holding it out to Sirius, she gave it to him and left him to read it whilst she busied herself with wrapping a piece of tinsel around Jamie's waist. "I think you'll see I left rather explicit instructions."

Sirius' eyes scanned the note quickly, biting back a laugh at how possessive and untrusting towards everyone _but_ Harry Madison was making herself sound. Looking up to find his wife tying a piece of tinsel to their son's romper, he couldn't hold back.

"Merlin, don't tell me you are _wrapping_ him up!" he guffawed, snorting so hard he had to rub his nose.

"Well, no, not really," said Madison, holding her son up and tossing him into the air slightly to admire her handiwork. Catching him deftly and tickling the squirming baby mercilessly, she scolded her husband above their child's giggles. "I needed something to tie the note to, you dumb arse! Hand it over!"

"So, wait, you're just going to set Jamie loose in their room and not even wake Harry up to ask his permission first?" said Sirius, inwardly wishing he could be there in the room when his godson awoke to find himself in sole charge of a baby. "Are you _sure_ you don't want a Marauder nickname?"

"You call me anything other than what we've already discussed and you know the consequences!" Madison warned in a sing-song voice, busy pulling faces at their son.

Sirius knew better than to question his wife's motives when she resorted to addressing him in baby talk, for it generally meant that if she used her normal tone, she'd scare more than just the baby. Instead, he contented himself with watching on in rapt attention as the mother of his child imparted her instructions to the attentive infant.

"Right, now you will be a good boy for Harry, won't you?" she cooed. "He's going to be super nervous and worried about making you upset, so no cutting your teeth, all right, young man? Just keep smiling that Gummy-bear smile and don't forget to tell him just how important he is to us! He can't understand you yet, but one day he will, and one day you will want to tell him all the secrets you don't want to tell Mummy and Daddy, and he will remember these days when you tried to talk to him fondly. Yes he will, my little man! Now come on, let's you say goodbye to Daddy… remember he is just Sirius again and you don't know him-"

Sirius scowled playfully at his wife and accepted their son in his arms.

"You look after Harry for me, kiddo," he said seriously, unable to avoid the grin that came when his son's head lolled back and forth slowly, the concentrated look on his face suggesting that he understood. "Daddy can't be a proper godfather to Harry right now, and so he needs you to make him smile. You do that for Harry today and you will make Daddy so proud, all right Junior? Do you accept your first mission as a Marauder?"

When Jamie began to babble excitedly and clap his hands, Sirius had to ask himself if his son really could understand what they were asking of them. Goodbyes dispensed with – a 'kiss' from his son invariably leaving his nose with covered in drool – Sirius ran a sleeve across his face and handed Jamie back to Madison.

"You might want to change him first," he suggested; "he had that look on his face again, and I don't think Harry's ready for that yet."

Madison scowled and promptly handed Jamie back to his father.

"You do it," she said primly. "You're the one with a wand and magic – he hates getting changed the Muggle way."

"He has to get used to it," said Sirius distantly. Realising the ramifications of what he said, he corrected himself, lest he cast a shadow over the holiday. "I mean, it's not fair that I should have to do it _all_ the time!"

Madison peered at him through narrowed eyes, seeing straight through his cover and knowing what he had originally intended to say; the words '_if something should happen to me_' still echoing in her head from their previous conversation. Deciding, like her husband, to not let such dark thoughts dampen their holiday spirit, she shook her head, still refusing to take her son back.

"I'll do the next one… I want Jamie with Harry before he wakes up, and I'll take too long. Do me a favour and drop him off? I need to get some more sleep…"

Seeing his wife's exhaustion, and feeling altogether guilty that she had taken it upon herself to let him sleep in an extra two hours in his own room, which he had slept in just in case Harry had been an early riser and sought him out, he accepted the task with a nod and nudged her back towards her room.

"I'll take care of it," he said softly, expertly settling their son down on the dresser to change him. Catching his wife's eyes as she glanced back at them one more time from the doorway of their connecting rooms, he smiled. "Thank you… for doing this for Harry. It _is_ a rather brilliant idea…"

Madison could only smile warmly at her husband in acknowledgement, before turning and disappearing into the peace of her empty bedroom, burying herself into the folds of her discarded blankets and falling back asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Harry awoke moments after Sirius had left the bedroom, to find a small weight settled on his chest. It had been a glob of drool on his face that had woken him initially, though the sharp tug of sticky fingers latching onto his hair came a close second in bringing him to his senses. Sitting up sharply, Harry would have rolled the baby onto the floor had it not been for his quick reflexes. The questions of where the child's mother was, and what the baby was doing in _his_ room Christmas morning slipped to the back of his mind as he became more concerned with keeping the child from crying. While he had no experience with babies, he knew from observing his aunt and uncle with his cousin that once a child started to cry, it was no picnic trying to get them to stop.

To his pleasant surprise – and relief – his actions thus far had only caused the child to babbly happily and giggle through his infectious gummy smile. Returning the gesture, Harry could only watch on in fascination as Jamie, upon realising that he was the centre of attention, began to ham up the cuteness, his smile becoming increasingly wider.

"I don't think it'd ever be possible for anyone to ever tell you off!" whispered Harry, mindful not to wake Ron, who, in the absence of snores, had to be close to waking up unaided. Noticing the scroll of parchment dangling from a piece of tinsel attached to the baby's soft romper, Harry carefully extracted the note and, retrieving his glasses from his nightstand and perching them on his nose, began to read:

_Dear Harry,_

_I do hope I am not imposing upon your Christmas morning by leaving Jamie with you like this, but the little blighter's had me up since four and I am hoping for the chance to have a kip before lunch. Jamie's not really met any of the other children yet, and of the adults, I can only trust Molly to be responsible with him, except Jamie doesn't seem to like red hair and poor Molly has enough on her plate, I really wouldn't want to add to it. I would greatly appreciate it if you could watch him for a few hours, just until it's time to start getting ready for lunch. In all likelihood he'll probably be ready for a nap shortly after breakfast; he's already eaten too, but he's a little glutton if there ever was one and will probably insist on joining you – just give him a piece of toast to chew on and he'll be happy. If you have any problems or questions I am sure Mrs Weasley will be only too insistent to impart her knowledge, and if he needs changing at all, just dump him on Sirius' lap; he's your godfather, and so he cannot claim to not have experience with dirty nappies. _

_As much as I would appreciate this, I would understand it if you would prefer to spend the morning alone with your friends. If he gets too much, just sneak him into my room and place him in his playpen – he'll wake me when he needs something._

_Merry Christmas, Harry,_

_-Madison_

By the time Harry had finished reading the woman's note, Harry was blushing furiously at the implication that Sirius had ever changed his nappy. Having been unavoidably estranged from the man for over twelve years, he was unfamiliar with looking upon his godfather as one who had been there for him while he was an infant. As though realising for the first time that Sirius had in fact been there for the first formative year of his life, Harry found himself overwhelmed with questions about his life as a baby, and his parents; he even found himself secretly wishing for little Jamie to take a dump so that he could watch Sirius change him – he'd never seen it being done, let alone the magical way.

Sitting up against the bed head, Harry rested his feet flat on the mattress and balanced the happy little baby on his knees.

"What am I going to do with you?" he whispered, making a face at the baby; feeling a strange sense of accomplishment when his antics were rewarded with another smile. "You're a happy little fella, aren't you?"

Meanwhile, across from him, Ron rolled over and stirred. As though realising for the first time that there was another occupant in the room, and that said occupant was not paying attention to him, Jamie clapped his hands loudly and squealed, causing Ron to wake up with a jolt and scramble up into a sitting position when he saw their unexpected guest.

"Blimey, Harry, who's that?" he asked, feeling slightly panicked by the idea of being one of two teenagers alone with an infant. There had only been a year's difference between he and Ginny, and from what little he could remember of his younger sister's formative years, the baby was _never_ left alone with any of the boys.

"This?" said Harry, pulling another face at the baby, answering his friend's question without looking away from the infant. "Why…" he paused, thinking of a brilliant prank he could play on his friend. While Madison had been introduced to the rest of the teenagers in passing, none of them had seemed to of seen Jamie. The plan formulating in his mind, he smiled widely. "This is my Christmas present. I think I'll name him Jamie… for my Dad…"

Ron spluttered and gasped in shock, almost falling over his feet in his rush to stand.

"Bloody hell, Harry, you can't be serious!" said Ron. "How did a kid just land itself in our bedroom? He has to belong to _someone_! You can't honestly expect to _keep_ him… what about school?"

Unable to contain his mirth, Harry began to laugh.

"Relax, Ron, I was only pulling your chain," he said. "But he _is_ mine… for the morning at least." Grinning smugly at his friend's unwavering confusion, he elaborated. "His name really is Jamie, y'know. He's Madison's son… you know, that brunette woman with the tan? She's actually staying here for the holidays, but just hasn't come down much. I don't think she and Jamie are used to large groups of people or something."

Ron nodded slowly, feeling a little more at ease as he gathered the courage to settle himself on the edge of Harry's bed and stare at the small baby in fascination. Being home schooled in his formative years, the only memory of small children Ron had, was of freckled kids with red hair.

"Hey there, kid…" he ventured forth to address the child. Looking up at Harry when Jamie did nothing but screw up his face at him and rub at his nose with the back of his hand, craning his neck to hide in the crook of Harry's shoulder, Ron frowned. "How come he knows you so well?"

"That day we all went to St Mungo's, and slept through to lunch before hand," said Harry, "I woke up early and met Jamie and his mum downstairs. I actually thought they'd left to go spend Christmas wherever they live, with family, but then I wake up with baby drool over my face and a note from his mother…"

"A note?" said Ron, his eyes looking around searchingly. "Let's see…"

"Jamie killed it," lied Harry, not quite knowing how his best friend would take Mad's comments about Mrs Weasley. "Was just some boring instructions and stuff. He'll be out of our hands by lunch, I expect-"

"_Our_ hands?" said Ron incredulously, shaking his head. "Whoa no, mate, you're in this on your own. I don't want to be responsible for no kid!"

"You'll follow me in the Chamber of Secrets to face a Basilisk, but you won't help me watch after a kid for a morning?" said Harry, one brow raised.

"Harry, you obviously don't know my mother," said Ron, shuddering slightly. "She gets absolutely mental when she's got a baby on her hip. Us lot weren't allowed anywhere near Ginny by ourselves until she was old enough to tattle on us."

"Your loss," said Harry, shrugging, as he picked up Jamie carefully and moved towards the foot of his bed, where a small pile of presents lay waiting. "I'm going to open my presents now… do you want to help me, Jamie?"

The next few minutes passed quietly, with nothing but the sounds of childish squeals and tearing paper filling the room.

"Blimey, Harry, be _careful_, will you? He could choke on that paper if he puts it in his mouth!" said Ron, red and flustered and looking as though he might keel over from a panic attack at any moment.

Compared to him, Harry was remarkably upbeat. He didn't know how he wasn't simply falling to pieces under the weight of the responsibility bestowed upon him, and he didn't know just how he was able to feel so quickly at ease with the child in his care, but he suspected that the trust Madison had placed in him by dropping Jamie off in the first place had something to do with this sudden burst of confidence.

"Don't worry, Ron," said Harry, tugging Jamie's wrist away from his mouth as the baby attempted to stuff a wad of wrapping paper into his mouth. "I'm making sure he doesn't _eat_ it."

Sure enough, however, Jamie soon began to think that Harry trying to keep his paper-filled hands from his mouth was some sort of hilarious game. Happy that the child was giggling manically, but tiring of continuously being on his guard, ensuring that the child didn't ingest something not fit for consumption, Harry quickly found himself growing frustrated.

'_Just distract him_' Madison's words echoed in his ear, which he instinctively reached up to rub, as though Jamie had just been slobbering on it, like he had the morning he and Madison had met.

Pulling over his homework planner, which was his gift from Hermione, Harry sought to capture Jamie's attention by opening and closing it in front of the child, triggering it's verbose warnings each time the page opened. On the third '_Do it today or later you'll pay_!', Jamie discarded the wads of wrapping paper in his hand and reached out for the talking book, babbling back at it excitedly.

"Ron… a little help!" said Harry in alarm, as Jamie then took to gripping the corners of the pages in his planner, trying to tear them out.

"Here!" said Ron, tossing Harry the small, working model of a Firebolt that Tonks had bought for the bespectacled teen.

As soon as the broom had taken flight across the room, Jamie's head snapped up preternaturally, and he watched, transfixed, as the broom began to run circles around him, always staying out of reach.

"Ah, you like that, do you?" said Harry, immediately identifying with the small child's fascination with broomsticks, inwardly wondering if he had been the same when it had come to watching his own father fly as an infant. "Does your Daddy fly you on his broom?" he mused aloud. "Do you even have a Daddy anymore? I hope you do… though you are lucky to have Madison as your mum. She's just like I always imagined my Mum was like with me, you know…"

Harry's musings were cut off by Ron clearing his throat. Realising that his best friend was still in the room, and looking at him rather strangely, Harry blushed and bowed his head. Jamie was now in his lap playing with the wild wallet Hagrid had bought him, delighting in petting the furry side of the wallet's hide with one hand, whilst avoiding getting his fingers snapped off as he poked his hand towards the wallet's fang-like clasp with the other.

"That's one gutsy kid," marvelled Ron, paling at the viciousness of the animated wallet, unable to comprehend how the small child could find it so funny.

"He's going to grow up and be in Gryffindor, aren't you, Jamie?" said Harry, grinning.

In a bid to keep the intuitive child stimulated, Harry had soon taken to showing the boy his other presents. Much to his relief, Jamie did not look as though he was about to tear out the pages of the books Sirius and Remus had given him; the small child being too enthralled by the moving illustrations to want to destroy the paper. No sooner had he spread out the painting Dobby had made for him, both in a bid to try and figure out what it was and to make Jamie laugh some more, did Fred and George Apparate at the foot of the bed with a loud _crack_.

"Merry Christmas," said George. Then, seeing Jamie, he gaped. "Bloody hell!"

"George, I think Jamie's mother would appreciate it if you refrained from swearing in front of him!" said Harry by way of introduction. Unbeknownst to the occupants of the room, the Boy-Who-Lived had reverted to communicating in a sing-song voice, much like how Madison would talk when she didn't want to let on to Jamie how she really felt. Recognising the tone, little Jamie could only keep on smiling his innocent, gummy smile.

"Merlin, Harry…" said Fred, shaking his head in disbelief. "What happened? Did you find yourself an older girlfriend? You _dog_! Who's the mother?"

Harry began to splutter indignantly.

"He's not _mine_! I just turned fifteen, for crying out loud!" said Harry in horror. It wasn't that he didn't want to have kids one day, but by Merlin's beard, he couldn't even get a _date_!

All of a sudden, Fred and George started laughing heartily.

"We so had you!" said George.

"I can't believe you'd think that we thought…" Fred's voice trailed off as he exploded into more laughter.

His twin stepped in and finished the sentence. "… that he was _yours_! What do you take us for?"

"We know it's Madison's little sprog," said Fred.

"How did you know that?" said Harry dumbly.

"Harry, c'mon, it's not like she's actively _hiding_ him from everyone," said George in a condescending voice. "She's just been introducing him to people a little at a time -"

"-Mum was the same with Ginny and Ron," said Fred. "Shy little buggers they were, could you believe it?"

"Jamie, isn't it?" said George, venturing forward to hold out his arms towards the little boy. "C'mon, come to your Uncle Georgie!"

Surprisingly, Jamie was wise, and squirmed away from George in favour of clinging to Harry for dear life. His experience with several younger siblings telling him that he was defeated, George backed away.

"Well, never thought I'd see the day that a kid could repel the Weasley charm!" he said, feigning hurt. "What have you told him about us, Harry? I thought we were your friends!"

Harry was just about to apologise to the twins and reassure them that he had not exerted any influence over the child; that he did consider them friends, when he realised almost too late that they were again teasing him.

"Kid has a good sense of judgement, if you ask me," he snorted, smiling down conspiringly at the little boy who was now trying to climb over his leg and crawl away. "His mum left him with _me_ you know. No one else!"

The two older boys laughed at Harry good-naturedly, and settled themselves down on either side of his bed. Feeling slightly left out, Ron threw a wad of wrapping paper over their heads, aiming for the bin, and commanded their attention.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked defensively. He knew from experience that a visit from the twins was never what it appeared. "Don't go pulling any pranks while the kid's in here…"

"We're not here to pull a prank… honest!" said Fred.

"Yeah, we just came to tell you not to go downstairs for a bit," said George gravely.

"Why not?" said Ron suspiciously, though he was thankfully for the twins warning if they had indeed planned a prank on other occupants of the house.

"Mum's crying again," said Fred heavily, crushing Ron's hope that the reasons had been something a little more light-hearted. "Percy sent back his Christmas jumper."

"Without a note," added George. "Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything."

"We tried to comfort her," said Fred, moving around the bed to look at Harry's portrait. "Told her Percy's nothing more than a humungous pile of rat droppings."

As Fred had said the last part, he had adopted a silly tone and pulled a face at Jamie, who giggled and reached out for his nose. Triumphant, Fred smiled and ruffled the baby's light curls. Helping himself to a Chocolate Frog and sitting between Harry and his younger brother, between the two beds, George joined his twin in trying to win Jamie over.

"Didn't work," he said conversationally, over Jamie's head as the baby became enthralled with seeing two identical faces on either side of him. "So Lupin took over. Best let him cheer him up before we go down for breakfast, I reckon… though I s'pose if you were to go dump Jamie in her lap, that'd probably distract her plenty."

Harry wrapped his arms around Jamie possessively and shook his head. Repeating Madison's instructions to himself, he insisted to the others that he didn't want to shirk his responsibility by adding to all their mother had to do that morning.

Once downstairs, Harry was not surprised to find that Hermione and Ginny had yet to meet Jamie. Upon seeing her best friend cautiously creep down the stairs, careful not to drop the _baby _on his hip, Hermione had looked a little befuddled, and Harry had secretly enjoyed catching his know-all friend at a loss. Being an only child herself, it quickly became apparent that she was completely out of her element when it came to interacting with a baby and seeing to their needs, and though Harry was hardly an old hand at it himself, he felt insanely proud that he was coping, realising for the first time, what Madison must have meant about him being a 'natural'. Until now, he'd just assumed that all teenagers would be the same as he around a baby, and now he was finding that even the Weasley children, who had grown up surrounded by each other, were uncomfortable with being alone with a baby without parental supervision.

Whilst Hermione led the others towards the back of the kitchen, where Kreacher was supposed to live in a cupboard beside the boiler, Harry had hung back with Jamie and struck up a conversation with Sirius, who was extracting things from the pantry for lunch later in the day and muttering about Kreacher.

"You're good with him," Sirius observed casually, trying to avoid his son's eye contact as the little boy's face lit up, tiny arms reaching for him. "You're okay watching him, aren't you? I mean, if you have a problem with sharing Christmas morning with the little fella, I could take him off your hands for a bit…"

"His mum wanted _me_ to watch him," said Harry firmly, taking the responsibility to heart as he puffed out his chest proudly.

"She picked the right person for the job, then," said Sirius considerately, smiling slightly. "Y'know, when you were born, James used to boast that all Potters had the Midas touch with children…" his voice trailed off as he lost himself in the memory. "I'll never forget the look on his face when you came tearing towards _me_ first when we both arrived back from a mission. Prongs always maintained that it was only because I was standing closer to you, or some rot, but I swear it was because you were consciously trying to put your dad in his place. You really are your father's son, Pronglet."

"Pronglet?" Harry's brows rose above his hairline. "Is that what you used to call me?"

"It's your Marauder's nickname," said Sirius. Catching himself before he revealed that Jamie was his son, he quickly covered his tracks. "Much like any son of mine will be called Padfoot Junior."

"That's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it?" said Harry thoughtfully, unwittingly shifting said child on his hip. Remembering the name of an animated dinosaur, from a movie he had seen in school many years earlier, he thought of an alternative. "Why not something like 'Little Foot'? I know you're _Pad_foot and not _Big_ Foot, but - "

"Harry!" Sirius cut him off, gripping both of his shoulder and smiling widely with pride and excitement. "That's bloody _brilliant_!"

"Ah, yes, well, I'll be sure to hold you at that when you go off and have kids," said Harry, slightly unnerved by his godfather's sudden exuberance. Not noticing, then, how the man's face fell – for Sirius quickly busied himself with the Turkey and Harry was distracted by Jamie – Harry heard his friends calling him and excused himself, thinking nothing of how much their passing conversation had meant to his godfather.

* * *

"Little Foot," said Madison aloud, trying the name out on her tongue. "Now why didn't _I _think of that? I remember that movie!"

Sirius could only stare at his wife blankly, prompting her to explain the premise behind the animated children's movie, '_The Land Before Time_'. Once done, she beamed from her husband and son in turn. "I like it… suits him well… especially since you always used to call him 'our little one' before he was born."

"I remember," said Sirius, coming up behind his wife and wrapping his arms around mother and child.

"Oh, how _touching_," a snivelling voice drawled from the doorway in disgust. "By all means, _continue_… we all know how inept you Gryffindors are at subtlety."

"What the hell do you want, Snape?" growled Sirius, stiffening slightly and instinctively moving to stand in front of his wife and child. "The next meeting is not until Friday, or were you unsure of that fact without a tattoo on your skin to burn you a reminder?"

Severus had his wand drawn in an instant, but Sirius stood firm.

"You wouldn't _dare_," he taunted, knowing too well that Severus hexing an unarmed wizard in front of a Muggle and baby would not bode well with the headmaster, no matter what he may say to provoke the slimy-haired git.

An unreadable expression passing over Snape's face before he sheafed his wand and straightened, catching Sirius unawares by his sudden compliance.

"Very well," said Snape in clipped tones. Reaching into his robes to pull out a letter, he held it out to his childhood nemesis. "From Dumbledore."

Quickly scanning the note, his features darkening with every word he read, Sirius handed it over for his wife to read before suggesting that she go upstairs and fetch Harry. Searching his eyes to make sure that she would not come back to find Snape in pieces all over the kitchen – not that she considered that much of a loss, save for the punitive effect that it would have on her husband – she glared levelly at the hateful man that always seemed to bring out the worst in her husband, and left the room with Jamie.

Leading Harry back down into the kitchen a few moments later, Madison hung back and waited for the fireworks to start.

"Sit down, Potter."

"You know," said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."

An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table. Madison hovered in the doorway and watched on, the wheels turning over in her mind.

"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, "but Black - "

"I'm his godfather," said Sirius, louder than ever. Behind him, Madison conveyed her silent support to her husband. She'd not thought much when Sirius had warned her that Dumbledore may try to manipulate her when it came to Harry, but now she was beginning to realise just how much of a hold the unofficial leader of the free world seemed to have over his former students.

"I'm here on Dumbledore's orders," said Snape, whose voice, by contrast, was becoming more and more quietly waspish, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel… involved."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Sirius, letting his chair fall back on to all four legs with a loud bang.

Sensing that things were about to quickly get out of hand, Madison thought on her feet and was inspired by a truly ludicrous idea. Knowing full well that Severus Snape would not dare mistreat an infant whilst in full view of the child's over-protective father and an equally protective teenager, and that said father and teenager could not physically attack said greasy git whilst he had a 'human shield' she set her plan in motion. Breezing past her husband and whispering a few words into his ears, calling upon him to trust her, she by-passed Harry and headed straight for Snape, wiggling baby in her arms.

"Be a peach, Sevvie, and watch him for a bit?" she said in a sickeningly sweet tone, unceremoniously dumping Jamie on the man's lap. "I do wish for him to experience a whole range of influences in his formative years…" leaning down to kiss her child on the head, she leant in close to Snape's ear as she straightened – as close as she dared without actually coming in physical contact with his greasy locks – "… it's for your own protection. You can thank me later."

Without further ado, Madison pulled herself up to her full height and left the room without a backwards glance. No one had to know that she was intending on waiting just inside the closed kitchen door, listening out for her son's unlikely cry, and that she'd invariably nag Sirius to see his memory of the exchange as soon as she next got him alone. In her wake, Severus could only sit rigidly, not moving a muscle, as he acquainted himself with the unfamiliar weight of a _baby_ settling down in his lap. Looking up at the two other occupants in the room, he was unsurprised to see the Potter brat looking as though ready to leap across the table, but was perturbed by the smug look on his nemesis' face.

"Get this brat away from me, Black," he scowled, careful to keep his voice down, lest he find himself with an armful of screaming toddler. As much as he wanted nothing more than to dump the baby on the floor, he knew that with all the dirt and jagged rock on the ground he'd never hear the end of it if he 'thoughtlessly' endangered the brat in that way. Between the Muggle wench, his childhood nemesis, the Potter brat, Dumbledore, and the mother of all the red-headed abominations that had ever crossed his path, he'd never again be able to attend an Order meeting in peace.

"Why?" said Sirius obstinately, "his mother dropped him on _your_ lap, not mine!"

Noting, then, that Sirius was being careful to neither confirm nor deny his parentage of the child, Severus narrowed his eyes. Looking at Harry pointedly before catching Sirius' eye, he sneered.

"You _know_ why," he said, the murderous look on his face enough to make any normal father leap to their child's rescue. When the cool Animagus didn't so much as flinch, Severus had to silently commend the man's restraint. Beside him, Potter was trying to pull his arm out of Sirius' hold.

"C'mon, Sirius!" Harry whispered to his godfather urgently, his desperation to get his point across making the whisper loud enough to carry itself to Severus' ears. "Madison _obviously_ doesn't know him as well as us – let me take him!"

"He's fine where he is," said Sirius nonchalantly, looking over at the baby to make sure of that fact, and pulling a face at the mesmerised baby for good measure. "See? He's laughing away…"

"As dense and oblivious in the face of danger as his father," said Severus bitingly, eyes gleaming in triumph. Before Sirius could retort, he turned his attentions towards the man's godson, beginning to tell the brat that he was the unfortunate soul expected to teach him Occlumency in the coming term. Once his message had been delivered, he stood, and, holding the baby by the strap of his Muggle dungarees, he held the child out across the table, where Harry leapt up and accepted the still-giggling infant.

"Wait a moment," said Sirius, fleetingly looking his son over for any discernable signs of distress before glaring at the back of Snape's cloak, the man having turned to leave.

Snape turned back to face them, sneering.

"I am rather in a hurry, Black. Unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time."

"I'll get to the point, then," said Sirius, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape who, Harry noticed, balled his fist in the pocket of his cloak over what Harry was sure was the handle of his wand.

Protectively, he held Jamie a little closer to him, hesitating only when he felt that the baby was wet through. His eyes immediately flying to the part of Snape's robes that Jamie would have been seated on, he fought hard to hide the grin that threatened to form when his Quidditch-sharp eyes detected a shadow of moisture on the dark fabric. It being winter, he noted, Snape must be wearing too many layers to feel it, and it would not be until he was out of the pleasant-smelling kitchen, that any offensive smells would be detectable. In an effort to avoid drawing attention to Snape's little mishap, Harry forced himself to concentrate on what his godfather was saying.

No sooner had Harry returned his attention the older wizard's conversation, had his godfather pushed his chair back and rounded the table, intent on physically threatening his most loathed teacher.

"Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him.

"I've warned you, _Snivellus_," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's; "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better-"

"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been _leading a double life_ for the past eighteen months?"

"Speaking of _double lives_," Sirius spat, resisting the temptation to look back at Harry to check if he had begun to suspect anything. "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted that his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"

"Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognised you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Good thing it was the day you saw the brat off at the station platform and not the other day when you were seen in Diagon Alley…" he looked over Sirius' shoulder pointedly, silently gesturing towards the child the Animagus refused to acknowledge as a son in Harry Potter's presence. Snape sneered triumphantly; "I'd hate to think of what a man like that would do with _that kind of information_."

Reading the implied threat, Sirius raised his wand.

"NO!" Harry yelled, handing Jamie over to an alarmed Madison, who had rushed back into the room at the first sound of yelling, and vaulting the table to stand between the two men. "Sirius, don't!"

"Are you threatening me, Snape?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge.

"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape, in a tone that suggested that Sirius owed him gratitude for not divulging any of the Order's secrets – inclusive of the existence of Sirius' wife and son.

"Harry – get – out – of – it!" snarled Sirius, pushing him aside with his free hand.

The kitchen door opened and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, came inside, all looking very happy, with Mr Weasley walking proudly in their midst dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas covered by a mackintosh.

"Cured!" he announced to the kitchen at large. "Completely cured!"

He and all the other Weasleys froze on the threshold, gazing at the scene in front of them, which was also suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking towards the door with their wands pointed into each other's faces and Harry immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each, trying to force them apart. Then, in the corner, Madison stood rooted to the spot, simultaneously looking as though she wanted to tear strips off of someone, but altogether concerned for her infant son, who was looking rather bewildered in her arms.

"Merlin's beard," said Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face, "what's going on here?"

Both Sirius and Snape lowered their wands. Harry looked from one to the other. Each wore an expression of utmost contempt, yet the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses. Snape pocketed his wand, turned on his heel and swept back across the kitchen, passing the Weasleys without comment. At the door he looked back.

"Six o'clock, Potter. On the first day back at school."

And he was gone. Sirius glared after him, his wand at his side. Suddenly, Madison spoke up.

"Did it work?" she asked Harry, catching his eye.

Harry cracked a grin and nodded.

"Yep," he said, "and Snape was none-the-wiser. This will truly be a test to see if he washes his robes!"

"Excellent," said Madison, her lips curling into a evil smile. "I can already testify that he hasn't washed his hair in at least a month," she shuddered. "I don't ever want to get that close to that vile man, ever, ever again."

"What are you talking about?" said Sirius in confusion, looking from his wife and godson in confusion. Trying to maintain the cover of an uninvolved man who was in no way related to the woman and child before him, he struggled to keep a hold of his emotions. "What were you thinking, leaving your son in that man's care? He could well have dumped the baby on the floor, for all you know!"

"But he didn't," Madison pointed out. "Which again, just goes to prove my theory that the big bad bat would welcome the chance to hide behind a defenceless infant. When I dropped Jamie in his lap I as much as said that I was doing it to protect him… seems he appreciated my gesture, else he would have handed my little angel over before Jamie had the chance to give him a little present."

"A little present?" said Sirius, frustrated at being out of the loop.

"Why don't you hold Jamie on your lap for five minutes and find out?" said Harry suggestively. Sirius' eyes flew open in realisation and he began to bark with laughter.

Meanwhile, Mrs Weasley looked between the two people she knew to be the baby's parents in disapproval and loudly suggested that _someone_ change the poor dear's nappy before he developed a rash. The kitchen was then filled with the sounds of horrified teenagers concocting methods to safely sterilise a child after being physically manhandled by Snape.

Having slipped from the room, unnoticed, to change the baby's nappy, mother and child returned to the kitchen, strategically standing beside their covert husband and father to share in the fruits of 'Little Foot's' first recorded prank.

END CHAPTER:

Next Chapter: 17th December 2006


	5. The Honeymoon is Over

**Disclaimer**: The only thing that 'belongs' to me is Madison and little Jamie. If Harry Potter belonged to me I would be too busy finishing book seven to dally here...

**Updated: Wednesday 27th December 2006. Ten days late... I know, I know... what more can I say but, 'Silly Season!' Hope you all had a merry, and safe, Christmas; roll on the New Year!**

**A/N: If the chapter title doesn't give anything away, then I suppose I should warn you here that this is where the 'tragedy' in this story's genre comes to mind. In hindsight, it is probably a good thing that I didn't post this on Christmas... really not festive material, if I may say so... **

**Chapter Five: _The Honeymoon is Over_**

The following day, the teenagers returned to the school. As predicted, it had torn out Sirius' heart to farewell his godson without proudly declaring the boy's place in his new family. Madison could only watch helplessly as Sirius restrained himself, clapping the teenager on the back and pulling him into an impersonal, one-armed hug. For days afterwards, Madison argued with Sirius that his godson was never going to become as close as he once was, so long as Sirius held himself back. Sure, she acknowledged that the kid was not used to physical signs of affection and didn't initiate, but that didn't mean that he would never crave that kind of connection with someone. Madison herself had stolen a quick hug, all under the pretence of letting _Jamie_ say goodbye; the look on Harry's face as the small baby wrapped its arms around his neck was the base of Madison's entire argument.

In the end, they had agreed that as soon as they collected Harry from the platform at the beginning of summer, and swept him away to their little safe oasis, they would never hold back on showing their affections. They had barely one summer left before the boy turned 17, and they had their work cut out for them if they hoped to undo so many years worth of neglect.

Returning to Paradise Lodge, weeks turned into months, and things settled down to as much normal as things could get. Jamie's first birthday was a momentous occasion, the re-christened 'Little Foot' living up to his name by getting into everything. Madison was delighted when Harry wrote her, and so, careful not to include any evidence of Sirius, Remus, or their location in the images, she began sending him regular updates on Jamie. The boy was even thoughtful enough to send Jamie a little birthday present – his own miniature Firebolt, identical to the working scale model that Tonks had given the older boy that previous Christmas. Harry had been apologetic about his choice of gift, not quite knowing if it were age appropriate and worried that he may already have one, but Sirius could not get over the irony of the selection, and was careful to make sure that the mini-Firebolt was his son's prized possession.

Jamie's first word had come on Valentine's day, and was, of course, 'Da'. In the months that followed, Remus became 'Moo', and Madison, much to her horror, 'Mad'. Whenever Sirius wasn't taking their son out on Buckbeak or strapping him to his back as he collected driftwood, he was 'educating' his 'Little Foot' on his 'big brother', making sure that Harry was as much a part of Jamie's life as what he would be if he were actually present. Jamie knew that his toy broom was from Harry, and that the bedroom next to his belonged to the older boy. He could identify the Boy-Who-Lived from photos, and shared in the excitement whenever a letter came.

As much as Jamie was steadfastly becoming his father's son, Madison made sure that she secured her own special, mother-son moments. One thing she was determined to make sure of, was that her son had a respect for the environment and a knowledge for art. While his artistic licence was restricted to uncoordinated finger-painting and unintelligible scrawls, Madison wanted to make sure that her son grew to be comfortable in an art room. Furthermore, she didn't infantilise her child by referring to animals and plants by their colour or obvious attributes. A 'horsey' was always a 'horse', and the 'pretty flower' was distinguished with its specific breed. Madison knew that Jamie had no chance of articulating the big words so early in life, but she knew that by constant repetition, he'd never forget what she was trying to teach him.

In turn, Sirius – and by extension, Remus – accepted what Madison was trying to do, and did their part by frequently using magic around the boy. Even though Madison was a Muggle, she was determined to read and learn as much about magical society as possible; not only to better understand the archaic world that her husband came from, but to be someone her son could be proud of, and turn to, once he started Hogwarts – for yes, Jamie Black was indeed, a wizard. His first instance of accidental magic had occurred shortly after the Christmas holiday. Madison had just spent the morning with him, 'painting', before settling him down for a nap. In the process of waking him, Sirius had allowed Jamie to teethe on the handle of his wand as he fossicked for a change of clothes for the infant. Subsequently, his back had been turned when sparks from his wand had hit him, painlessly, and did not realise anything was amiss until he carried his son back out into the living room to be met with gales of laughter. Jamie had recreated his latest masterpiece, colouring his father from head to toe in a rainbow of magical paint that did not fade from his skin for two weeks. So unrecognisable was Sirius, that Madison had felt comfortable sending Harry photos.

The onset of summer saw Jamie approaching fifteen months. Remembering back to the same time in his godson's life, Sirius confessed that he was looking forward to this stage of Jamie's development the most, because this was the time that they really started to become little people. Already, Jamie had almost a full mouth of teeth, and he had graduated from crawling to walking. Some of his cherubic baby-fat had begun to wash away, and he was starting to get a distinctive 'little boy' look about him. His curly hair, originally fine and sandy in colour, was beginning to thicken and darken; although with the amount of time the child spent outdoors, sun streaks were inevitable.

Whilst their little boy was positively thriving, Madison was becoming increasingly worried for Sirius. Extended usage of a Time Turner was generally ill-advised, which was why the Ministry usually kept such tight controls over their usage. Between reliving days over two very different time zones, Sirius was becoming worn down; lack of sleep and a tendency to miss meals whenever he was north of the equator reverting his body back to his Azkaban days. As much as Madison wanted her husband to slow down, she really couldn't blame him for wanting to be in two places at once. Voldemort was back, and the evil wizard's knowledge of the connection between himself and Harry had given everyone cause to be concerned.

Watching her husband fall into their bed, exhausted, the man having taken to napping whenever Jamie was down for the count, Madison realised that she had had enough. Even with the Time Turner, all Sirius seemed to be doing when in her company was either sleeping or spending time with Jamie. She didn't want to begrudge the man time with their son, but a line had to be drawn. If losing touch with her husband was the price to pay for continuing to live at Paradise Lodge, then the price was too high. Wards to rival Hogwarts may have been erected to secure the property from harm, preparing it for Harry's arrival, but with the Dark Lord on the rise, it was becoming increasingly apparent that Sirius just couldn't be on the other side of the world while Harry was in school. Expecting the man to be in two places at once was a tall order, and to insist upon it, Madison realised, would be very selfish of her; both she and Jamie could get everything they needed within Grimmauld Place. Of course, it may not be an ideal situation – both she and Jamie, she knew, would miss the great outdoors – but if they were truly going to be a family with Harry, then they all had to pull together and make some sacrifices.

Upon hearing Madison's proposal, Sirius was adamant that he didn't want to alter or take anything away from the lifestyle she and Jamie got to lead. The way he saw it, his coming and going between the two 'worlds' was his responsibility – his 'job'. While Madison could not begrudge the sense of duty her husband had to contribute towards the building war effort, she struggled to get him to understand that she wanted to make the move for him… to make things easier on him. A proud, stubborn Gryffindor, Sirius did not want his wife to make such concessions; he argued that he did the things he did so that they had the opportunity to life the good life, and that if they were to all become prisoners of Grimmauld Place, it would all be for naught. The man took particular offence to Madison's suggestion that a life with a husband working himself to the bone was hardly a life, and the pair had broken out into one of their first real arguments.

They were no sooner towards reaching a conclusion, however, when they were interrupted by an urgent message from Dumbledore, detailing that Harry had been fooled by a false vision from Voldemort, and had headed straight into a trap. Immediately, all energies focused on Harry, though as Sirius pulled on his robes and prepared to activate a Portkey, Madison could not help but be filled with a pit of dread.

"Why can't you use the Time Turner now, to go back in time and stop Harry from falling for Voldemort's plan?" said Madison, thinking it was ludicrous that man and child be subject to such dangers when there was a logical way around it.

Sirius held her close.

"This could be it, Mad, we could get him, don't you see?" said Sirius, wordlessly drawing attention to the Prophecy that had shaped all their lives. Pulling away, he sighed; "besides, you know how it works. A Time Turner cannot be used to stop something from happening, it can only influence the conclusion – there are too many variables, otherwise."

Madison bowed her head and nodded solemnly. Even as a Muggle, she understood how damaging messing with events in time could do. She pulled on her husband's sleeve, stopping him.

"I hate that you're leaving like this," she whispered, referring to the heated argument they had been in the middle of moments earlier. Though they had never fought as much as they just had, whenever they had broken into petty squabbles in the past they had made a point of making up before leaving for anywhere, or going to bed.

"I know you're only suggesting it because you love me," said Sirius, stroking her cheek, "and I know that you know that I am only insisting on this because I love you and Jamie, and want what's best for you…"

"Yes, but you have to think about what's best for _you_," pointed out Madison, cutting her husband off when he tried to cut in. "Jamie and I coming to London does not mean that you've failed, Sirius! I know that's what you think, but it's not true. We'll still come here for holidays – it's safe enough for that – but strange as it must sound, I _want_ to be in London. I _want_ to get to know the Order, and become involved in the life my son will one day lead… I don't want our son to grow up too sheltered, I want him to see what is out there and _survive_."

"I don't know why I argue with you," said Sirius with a small smile, resting his forehead against his wife's; "you're always bloody right."

Madison gave her husband a bone-crushing hug and kissed him on the cheek.

"You can go now," she said solemnly. "Go… help Harry… I'll be waiting."

The full weight of what he was about to do – who he was about to face – bearing down on him, Sirius looked at his wife with a strange expression, and suddenly became reluctant to let her go. Prolonging the moment when he would have to say a final goodbye to his wife, Sirius motioned for Jamie, who was perched atop Remus' arms, the shorter man keeping the little boy occupied until it came time to activate the Portkey.

Whilst Sirius bounced Jamie on his hip and muttered nonsensical words at him, Madison fell out of earshot, becoming distracted by the soothing voice of her husband's best friend, the man reassuring her that everything will be all right, and that Dumbledore himself would be helping them. Her fears momentarily quelled by Remus' level tone, Madison was almost convinced that this was just another routine Portkey trip for her husband until she heard his parting words:

"I love you forever. Remember the promise."

Madison froze, staring until her eyes watered, at the place where Sirius and Remus had just disappeared from. Normally, whenever Sirius had to leave for a Order meeting, or shoot over to London at a moment's notice to answer an unexpected Floo call from Harry, he always parted with 'See you in a few'. Normally, whenever Sirius went over to London for hours at a time, he'd wind back the Time Turner and arrive home after barely a few minutes had passed. The sudden decision for Sirius to declare his love for her, rather than his standard parting message, and the subtle flicker of fear she had detected in her husband's eyes as he read Dumbledore's message was, by itself, enough to turn her stomach inside out. When, then, one… two… three minutes had passed without either man returning via the Time Turner and Portkey, Madison knew that she had a real reason to panic. The moment Jamie began to pick up on her distress and whimper, however, she regained perspective.

'What am I doing?' she scolded herself. Only a few minutes had passed… she could stop whatever it was that prevented Sirius coming back to her with the Time Turner from ever happening at all.

Striding purposefully across the room, she halted in her tracks when it occurred to her that she had absolutely no way of contacting anybody in the wizarding world. An conventional Owl would take close to four weeks to make the journey, and she couldn't call on a magical creature like Fawkes. Wizards didn't have telephones – hell, _she_ didn't even have a telephone – and to be connected to the Floo Network, her house would first need a fireplace. Her husband's mirror would have been an option, if not for the fact Sirius had it with him and if Harry had its twin wherever he was at present, it would be useless to warn him now.

Becoming increasingly despondent, Madison threw herself down on a sofa and buried her face in her hands. From his place in his playpen, where Sirius had left him, Madison could feel Jamie's bright blue eyes staring at her in concern; the child was uncanny in his ability to sense what other people were feeling, and he fed off it accordingly. Not bothering to hide the tears of frustration from her son, Madison looked over towards her child and sighed helplessly.

"_This_ is _exactly_ why I wanted to move us to London!" she said aloud, "my God, Jamie, if you ever use irony in your pranks, I will ground you for life! It's really not funny!"

As the minutes turned into hours, Madison's mood sunk deeper into despair. In making his wife completely dependent on him for contact with the wizarding world, Sirius Black had conditioned his security measure's one gaping flaw. There remained only so many times a woman could convince herself that a broken Time Turner was to blame, before the awful truth hit home. Something horrible must have happened to Sirius – not even _he_ would joke like this. If something had happened to his Time Turner he would have moved heaven and earth to get another one and spare her from this torment. She could try and fool herself with envisioning all Time Turners being destroyed and Sirius having no choice but to wait until the crisis was over before returning to her, but things were simply not in her favour. First, there was the lack of her husband's usual candour when leaving… not only was it an unexpected call, but Remus was, uncharacteristically, going as well and they were both heading off to face _Voldemort_. Of all the wizards Madison had heard of, only two had confronted Voldemort and lived; and neither of them were her husband.

Madison could not be sure of the time; she must have dozed off, for now the skies outside were overcast with the onset of dusk. Straightening herself up in he chair, she looked around to see what had pulled her to her senses, momentarily forgetting where her husband was and that she was all alone in the house with her son. Then she heard it again – the sound of her son crying.

"Oh, Jamie!" she cried out in alarm, her eyes shooting across the dimly lit room and finding her son still sitting in the playpen that Sirius had deposited him goodness knows how many hours earlier. From the smell of things, the poor lad had a loaded nappy, and, taking in his red face and tear-stained cheeks, had not been happy for quite some time.

Feeling absolutely terrible – for Jamie almost never cried – she rushed over to pick him up, only to be alarmed when he only began to cry louder. Taking her son into her arms nevertheless, she struggled with the child in confusion as he began to kick and claw at her. Then it hit her: the wards. When the wards had been activated, Sirius had explained to her that, as a Muggle, she would not be able to detect when they had been breached, whereas himself, Jamie, and to a lesser extent, Remus, would know. Eventually, a Muggle alarm system that was tied in to the magical wards would be installed to grant Madison the same level of awareness, but with the number of magical people far out numbering the number of Muggles living on the property, it had not been a very high priority. In any event, both wizards went to great lengths to ensure that she was never left alone in the house; one of them was always with her and Jamie… usually.

As soon as she had assured her son that 'she had gotten his message', the child switched off his distress so quickly that Madison could not be sure if she had imagined his cries or not. Approaching the door warily, she began to wonder just who had set off the magical security Sirius had erected around their home. She certainly wasn't expecting any of her Muggle friends to turn up, and in any event, they shouldn't have elicited such a response from the wards if they had. When it came to trespassing wizards, less than half a dozen wizards were privileged with the location of the property that was safely hidden under the Fidelius Charm. No one would have expected Andromeda Tonks to be her 'estranged' cousin's Secret Keeper, or that in fact Sirius Black had a sanctuary worth hiding. Madison could only hope, therefore, that the wards going off was a sign of Remus and Sirius returning, but then why did they not use the Portkey Sirius had made to transport people directly into the house? The odds that both Sirius' Time Turner _and _Portkey had been damaged… well, Madison did not even want to think what would have had to of happened to Sirius in order for them both to be destroyed.

"Please let it be Sirius… please let it be Sirius…" she chanted softly to herself. In her arms, Jamie clung to her neck with small, sweaty hands, the child's body feeling damp and over-exerted from his earlier episode.

Mentally slapping herself, Madison acknowledged Jamie's needs and rushed off towards his nursery, intent on changing him and putting him in a fresh set of clothes before he developed a chill. Almost as though he could sense his mother's urgency to get the job done quickly, Jamie was both docile and cooperative as she went through the Muggle motions, innately understanding that his Da and Uncle 'Moo' were not there at that moment to wave their sticks at him. Once Jamie was cleaned up, Madison cuddled him close and felt a slight sense of accomplishment for at least doing _something_ right. In fact, with her son in her arms, happy and content once more, her spirits could not help but lift a little. Humming an upbeat little tune for her son's benefit as she dumped Jamie's soiled clothes in the hamper and washed her hands in the sink of the bathroom that was connected to the bedrooms of parent and child, Madison had even began to think about what she was going to prepare for that evening's dinner; going so far as to scold herself for not having the foresight to have something ready by the time her husband returned.

So bewitched by her denial was she, that she almost didn't notice the haggard, broken man, that now stood in the middle of her living room, waiting for her. Upon seeing Remus Lupin's tear-stained face, all Madison could do was stare blankly at him and ask him what he wanted for dinner. The words that left his mouth fell on deaf ears, and she hardly batted an eyelid when strong arms took Jamie from her and led her across to the lounge, to sit down.

"No," she said suddenly, not quite consciously aware of why she had to say the word. The truth of the situation finally hitting home, she repeated the word with more conviction; "NO!"

* * *

Madison lost track of time after that, and to look back on that week months later, she would only find that she could not remember much of anything. She didn't remember the days she spent, utterly incoherent and inconsolable, much like she could not recall the point in time in which a tired-looking Andromeda Tonks turned up on her doorstep, her limping and battle-scarred daughter, Nymphadora, in tow.

She didn't remember how, on the second day, a boatload of tourists docked on the beach to ask for directions, and Jamie had brought everyone who knew him to tears when he had started to chase the tourists' black dog around excitedly, calling out 'Da!' at the top of his little lungs. It had taken a choked-up Remus nearly an hour to convince the determined little boy that the dog was not Padfoot, and would not transform into Daddy on command, no matter how much everyone present could wish it to be so.

She didn't remember, then, how Andromeda and Remus had sat down with her and tried to formulate a plan of action, about Harry. Madison was numb, withdrawing deeper and deeper into herself, communicating with slight nods and shakes of her head, only to forget what she had been asked within seconds; she had stopped eating, and once she had cried herself out, she exhibited no sign of actually realising that Sirius was gone at all.

She was completely oblivious to the whispered conversations between Remus and Andromeda, remaining clueless to the concerns they had for her mental state and, in the long term, her ability to take care of her son. Madison did not see how they worked hard to keep Dumbledore away, knowing that to allow the meddling old wizard to see Madison in such a state would only jeopardise any chance she would stand of claiming guardianship over Harry, as well as risk her custody of Jamie. As it was, she had become increasingly detached from her son, her eyes staring through the child unseeingly, the woman completely unable to acknowledge the passing of time, let alone anticipate when little Jamie needed to be fed, washed and rested.

Unable to get his mother's attention, and experiencing his father's absence for the first time in his young life, poor little Jamie was more confused than anything else. His Uncle Moo was his only constant, with Andromeda and Tonks little more than strangers to him. Though it was impossible for the little lad to understand that his daddy was gone and not coming back, Jamie remained an increasingly bright child. Having associated his father with being able to change into a dog, and then having enjoyed endless hours of watching Tonks change her face to amuse him, he had rather rationally concluded that if his daddy could turn into a dog, and Tonks could change her appearance, then said woman could turn into his daddy and make his mummy all better. When the excited toddler had reached this logical conclusion, and presented Tonks with a picture of Sirius, his intentions made resoundingly clear, the young woman had burst into tears and bolted from the room crying.

"Anyone but him! I can't, I _can't_!"

Leaving a deeply saddened, and slightly unnerved werewolf to console her sobbing daughter, Andromeda had set about pacifying the distraught toddler who, having been denied the one thing he had asked for, was close to pitching a fit – the first in his very young lifetime. Upon setting her eyes upon the devastated, lonely little boy, the expression on his face making him seem so much older as he sat clutching a photo of his father, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks, Andromeda found herself choking up. Nothing, she realised – _nothing _– she could do, would make that little boy smile. Nothing would bring back his daddy, who he could not understand was gone forever. Between herself, her daughter, and Remus, they may have been able to _distract_ the child for moments at a time, buying themselves a few precious hours of reprieve, but no one except that child's parents could possibly reassure him that everything was going to be all right. With a sigh, Andromeda cast her eyes from the little boy, to the door to his mother's bedroom; in her heart she knew that there was only one thing left to do.

Picking the whimpering child up in her arms, Andromeda crossed the room purposefully and headed straight into Madison's bedroom. Depositing the child on the floor by the bed with ne'er a backwards glance, she squashed down the lump that was forming in her throat at the child's vain attempts to gain his mother's attention and closed the door behind her.

Immediately, Remus was on his feet and rushing towards her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, panicked. "She can't take care of herself right now, let alone Jamie! Listen to him! She's ignoring him!"

"Remus," said Andromeda tiredly, her voice shaky with emotion. Sirius had been her favourite cousin, a spirited, loving little boy who had sought from her the affection and praise his parents had denied him. Even when he had been incarcerated in Azkaban, she had not been able to shake the image of the little lost boy who, with the help of his friends, had grown into a bright young man. Many people looked at Sirius Black and only saw a fun-loving prankster, who couldn't settle down; but Andromeda knew better. She knew, that the only thing Sirius had ever craved was the family he had eventually found with Madison and Jamie, and that everything else was just a defensive mechanism. Though she did nothing to help him at the time, a part of her could never accept that Sirius had ever done the things he had been imprisoned for, her last memory of the man confiding in her how excited he was to finally have Harry come and live with him, Jamie and Madison, that upcoming summer. Now, that would never happen… it tore her heart out, and yet she had been so busy trying to pull Madison out of the depths of despair, that she had not stopped and given herself the chance to grieve.

"Remus," she repeated, regaining her voice as she grabbed the man's arm and pulled him away from the closed door. "I know it hurts you to see him cry, but it's the only way any of us are going to get through to her. Nothing else will work."

"But I can't put Jamie through that!" said Remus, reaching for the door handle again, "he doesn't understand why Madison is being this way!"

"Jamie doesn't understand a lot of things," said Andromeda. "But he needs his mother, and nothing we do to try and compensate for that is going to change that."

"I should have done it," sobbed Tonks from where she had stood, leaning dejectedly against the back of the sofa she had rounded. "If I had, he would have been happy… if only for a moment."

"Tonks, I told you," said Remus, heading back towards the distraught girl and wrapping an arm around her. "If you had done that he would have kept wanting you to do it, and then he'd never understand that his Daddy is gone."

As he spoke the last of his sentence, announcing that Sirius was in fact, gone, Remus' voice cracked, and suddenly, he needed as much consoling as the young Auror he was attempting to comfort. Being the older of the three, Andromeda pushed her own feelings aside once more and pulled both 'children' to her, vowing in a string of abstract words that they all had to stick together and 'get it out of their systems'.

In the background, the steady wail of a child calling for its mother reached a crescendo, before stopping abruptly. Three heads snapped up, wide eyes regarding each other in concern as they looked from each other to the closed door in contemplation. All at once, they rushed the door, images of a child knocking himself unconscious or crawling out the window and falling over the balcony hastening their steps. Reaching the door, however, they stopped just as quickly when a woman's voice – one they had not heard sounding so coherent in close to a week – sang softly to her calming son.

Unable to hide the relief on her face, Andromeda looked at her daughter and Remus smugly.

"Hate to say I told you so," she said, with a sad smile, finally letting her own tears to fall.

* * *

In the end, it had only taken one word to pull Madison from her grief-stricken stupor. The sound of her devastated son wailing 'Mama' at the top of his lungs pulled her to her senses as surely as though someone had doused a bucket of ice-cold water over her head. Until that time, Madison had always been 'Mad' to her stubborn son, and so, ludicrously, the first thing she could think of when she swept the screaming child up in her arms was that he had been deliberately holding back from calling her 'Mama' all that time, just to tease her; the joke being such a _Sirius_ thing for his father's 'Little Foot' to do.

Murmuring countless apologies into her son's sweaty hair, Madison was horrified at the state of her bedroom, and herself. She had no idea of what day it was, or even how long her son had been holding himself up on the edge of the bed, screaming for her. When the question of who had been caring for her son came to mind, she recalled foggy images of Remus, Nymphadora and Andromeda having taken up residence and trying to keep things in order. A stab of panic hit her as she began to wonder why they had left Jamie alone in the room with her when she was so clearly catatonic, and as she abandoned attempts to tidy her appearance and fully placate her son's whimpers, she flung open her bedroom door in search of her husband's family.

"Madison?" said Remus, pulling away from where he had been wrapped up in a group embrace with the two witches in the room.

Allowing herself to be pulled into Remus' strong arms, Madison could not help but hear her husband's voice sniggering in her head, the man having no doubt made some lewd comment about Remus' animalistic charm with the ladies had he been present. Having anticipated her husband's sharp wit only served to remind her that never again would they hear his leading innuendo, or have the chance to throw things at him when he got a little too sarcastic with his endearments. Dissolving into tears as a fresh wave of grief crashed into her, she buried her face in the crook of Remus' neck and began to sob uncontrollably.

Heartened by the healthy, coherent display of emotion from his best friend's wife, Remus held onto her as best he could and shared in her pain, a solemn, confused Jamie sandwiched between them.

"I know it doesn't seem like it right now," he whispered into her hair, "but everything will be all right, you'll see."

"He's gone, Remus, he's really gone," Madison sobbed into his shoulder brokenly, her hold on the man before her tightening, lest she crumple to the floor. "Nothing will ever be _all right _again!"

"Nothing will be the _same_," said Remus, correcting her quietly, "but it _will_ be _all right_. We just have to stick together – it's what Sirius would have wanted."

Remus' words striking a chord within her, Madison's head shot up, and she looked at Remus with her eyes clear and focused for the first time in many days.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, immediately aghast that she had allowed herself to fall into a hole for so many days without even sparing a thought to what Harry must be going through. At Remus' hesitation, Madison found herself filled with another sense of dread, her over-active mind beginning to entertain the thought that perhaps Harry hadn't made it either.

Seeing the dawning distress on the woman's face, Remus acted quickly.

"Harry's fine," he reassured her, but then hesitated. "Well, he's as fine as you could imagine him being I suppose. He wasn't injured in the battle…"

"I want to see it," said Madison firmly, staring into Remus' eyes and knowing, without question, that Remus had been there. "Show me."

Taken aback by Madison's request, Remus loosened his hold on the woman and began to back away slightly.

"I… I don't think that's a good idea," he said, stammering slightly, his eyes wide at the thought of having to relive the events that had taunted him each and every time he had tried to close his eyes over the past few days. "You shouldn't have to see that."

"You did," said Madison. Lowering her voice, she sighed; "_Harry _did. Please, I want to understand. I want to see… I want to know… I need to know…"

What she wanted, and needed, to know was left hanging, but it went unspoken between them that she needed to be assured that Sirius had given a good fight. More importantly, Madison felt that if she could witness her husband's death – even after the fact – he would know that he wasn't alone, that she was with him. Deep down, she knew that he would never possibly know that now, but at this point she could only really concentrate on changing the things that she could; and right now she wanted to share in the experience that had taken her husband's life.

"You'll regret it," said Remus softly, all fight leaving him as he promised to show her the memory after careful consultation with Harry, once he arrived.

"Yes, well, I am sure wherever my husband is now he regrets getting his sorry arse killed!" said Madison dryly, revisiting her old friend humour in an attempt to draw herself out of the darkness. "Do not deny me the opportunity of knowing why, as a little ol' lady, I'm going to be inclined to beat him around the head with my colostomy bag when I go and meet him at the pearly gates."

Unable to help himself, Remus laughed. Slightly behind him, Andromeda wiped a drying tear from her eye, and bit back a noise that sounded halfway between a sob and a laugh.

"Merlin, I will never doubt why Sirius chose to marry you!" she said, her eyes shining in admiration. Closing the distance between them, she placed a hand on the widow's shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly. "You _are _going to be all right – see, you have already taken the first step!"

Letting out a strangled laugh, Madison reached up and squeezed her cousin-in-law's forearm in acknowledgement. Smiling a watery smile, she sighed.

"Well what more can I do? I feel like I am all cried out…" her voice trailed off as she looked down at the son in her arms, pausing to kiss the top of his brow. In a voice barely above a whisper, she continued in a hoarse voice. "Falling to pieces and crying a river is not going to help anyone. It's not going to bring him back."

Thought that final admission had been enough to set Madison off again, the pain in her heart did not seem as debilitating; her tears not as plentiful. She was no longer about to lose herself to her pain, like she gathered she had when she'd first heard; now, she was focused and determined and distracted by something else… two specific somethings, to be exact. Jamie… and Harry. The question of Harry's whereabouts, of his wellbeing, hitting her again, she turned to her husband's oldest living friend, her gaze level as she sought out his eyes.

"I need to speak with Dumbledore," she said determinedly. Heaven help her if Harry had already gone back to the Muggles for the summer. The thought of Harry having to endure the deference of his relatives after having just lost his godfather was absolutely unfathomable, and if Albus Dumbledore had allowed it to happen, there would be hell to pay.

* * *

"Ah, Mrs Black… so sorry for you loss," said Albus Dumbledore solemnly, in greeting. "You may not be aware, but I have been trying to contact you for some days now?"

"I was decidedly _indisposed_," said Madison primly, folding her fidgeting hands in her lap. At Remus' gentle suggestion, she had left Jamie at home and made the trip to Hogwarts alone – well, as alone as a Muggle could make the journey; Andromeda having quickly excused herself in favour of catching up with the school's resident Healer. "_My family _decided that it was in my best interests to allow myself some time to absorb the news before entering into this discussion with you."

"You have an idea what this conversation will be about?" said Dumbledore, his dull blue eyes widening slightly. If one were to look deep in the man's eyes at the moment, they would likely see a man metaphorically back-peddling, re-thinking his rehearsed approach. It threw him, slightly, to accept that this Muggle woman considered Sirius' 'family' as her own, turning up at the school with the cousin-in-law he was certain the woman could not have seen since her wedding. It hadn't occurred to him that a Muggle would be able to trust and turn to people from a world that she did not belong to. He had assumed that after the loss of her husband in a magical war, the woman would leap at the first opportunity to disappear into Muggle anonymity, forget that the magical world ever existed – until, at least, her son reached the age of eleven.

"I am under the impression, sir," said Madison flatly, "that you and I are here for the same reasons – to discuss what is now best for Harry."

'_Of course_,' she continued on in her internal monologue, careful to avoid eye contact with the revered wizard. '_What you think is best and what I know is best are likely two different kettle of fish_.'

The headmaster peered at her in curiosity, before nodding once.

"Yes indeed," he said congenially, mistakenly assuming that he was home free. There is no way a Muggle woman, having just lost her husband to Dark wizardry, would want anything to do with a boy who was the Dark Lord's biggest target. "I must say that it is commendable that you should spare a thought for the boy when you are undoubtedly going through such emotional upheaval yourself. It is particularly remarkable, since you do not particularly know the boy, hmmm?"

Seeing where the headmaster was going with this, but altogether too emotionally drained to set him straight – she didn't after all, have to answer to him – she merely blinked at the man and pretended that he had not just said anything. No, better to wait for the headmaster to make his intentions clear before pulling out her hand.

"Yes, yes, well…" the headmaster paused to stroke his beard for a moment, becoming slightly disarmed by the strange Muggle woman who he could not quite read. "I am sure you will agree that, as a wizard, I am better equipped to know what is in Harry's best interests right now… what, with the threat of Voldemort and all…" - still, Madison said nothing – "… I am certain that you will have enough on your plate raising your own son, than to be concerned with the needs of a teenager who is of no relation to you-"

"Harry is my husband's godson," said Madison simply, correcting the headmaster.

The headmaster considered her words, and then shook his head sadly.

"Yes, but I implore you to not feel obligated in any way to uphold that which was, at the end of the day, Sirius' _sole_ responsibility. Harry does have Muggle relatives…"

"Are you asking me to relinquish guardianship over Harry?" said Madison levelly, knowing full well what the old man would say next.

"Not at all, my dear," said Dumbledore; "you see, you have to first _have_ guardianship over the boy in order to relinquish those rights."

"You have not lodged our marriage certificate," Madison stated numbly, not really surprised, but disheartened nonetheless that he husband's fears had been merited.

"I do know what we agreed upon, child, but I really do think that it is best for you, and for your son, to maintain your anonymity," said Dumbledore, with misguided concern. "Especially now, after what has happened. I am certain that Sirius would have wanted you both to live your lives without fear…"

'…_and with Harry_,' said Madison to herself, inwardly scowling at the old man's cheek. Just who did he think he was?

"With all due respect, sir, I do not feel it is your place to make that decision," said Madison. "I resent the implication that my son ought to hide who he is. His father's name is all he has left of Sirius, I will not take that away from him. My son will grow to be proud to be a Black, just as his father wanted. If accepting my husband's legacy comes hand in hand with danger, then I will deal with it. I knew what I was getting into when I got married, sir, and I am not going to dishonour my husband's memory by backing down now. The arrangement was that we were to conceal our identities until Sirius' name was cleared. Remus tells me that the Minister's days are numbered and any new Administration would give my husband a posthumous pardon, and so I hold it to you, sir, to honour your word. "

"You have misunderstood me, child," said Albus, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I do not mean to infer that you deny your love of Sirius and deprive your son in any way; I merely beseech upon you that you consider the virtues of discretion. If you are concerned about the state of Sirius' will, I assure you that young Mr Potter is not aware of his present entitlement, and that, should you wish, we can delay the administration of your late husband's estate until the war is over. Am I correct in the understanding that you are independently wealthy?"

Madison was seething. The thought that this man could possibly think that the only thing she was concerned about was securing Jamie's birthright as an heir, made her sick. Anyone who knew Sirius knew that he hated most all of his family's physical possessions. The money, yes, was some consolation, and it did make life a lot easier for Sirius – the years he wasn't held in hell without a trial, that is – and it was true that Madison had no need to be financially dependent on her husband's estate. For all Madison cared, Harry could take it all… all she wanted was her husband's name to be acknowledged as her own, and for his wishes for her to look out for Harry to be honoured.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," said Madison, rising to her feet slowly. "I am afraid that you have underestimated my husband, and myself…"she straightened, holding her head high. "Furthermore, you have overestimated the role in which you are entitled to play in Harry's life. James and Lily Potter did not appoint you Harry's guardian, or even his regent. That honour was bestowed upon my husband, who, for reasons out of his control, could not act in Harry's best interests…" - she curled her lips into a grim smile and narrowed her eyes at the headmaster - "Sirius made sure to keep me fully abridged of his intentions, and I fully intend to honour his plans. I am certain that you will agree that as the man trusted most by James and Lily Potter to do the right thing by their son, Sirius remains the authority in this matter. I simply came to inform you that I will be doing all I can to serve Harry's best interests, and to request an audience with him."

Albus Dumbledore opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Wordlessly summoning a magical scroll from a drawer in his desk, he placed the marriage certificate of Sirius and Madison Black between them, the implication that he had yet to file it and thus Madison was powerless remaining unsaid.

"I think you'll find that's a copy," said Madison coolly, drawing Dumbledore's attention to the little 'innocent' incident in which Sirius had transformed and attempted to bury the scroll. All had found the antics hilarious at the time, and it wasn't until afterwards that the most trusted members of the wedding party had learnt that it had a more premeditated purpose of allowing a switch.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at the scroll and frowned. Imperceptibly, Madison could detect the grand wizard's demeanour slump slightly. With a sad smile, the stoic widow shook her head slowly.

"The paperwork was filed late yesterday," she said quietly, her heart heavy with the thought that her beloved husband had not lived to see the day where their marriage could be officially recorded at the Ministry, "and backdated accordingly. I would like to see Harry now. It is the last day of term, is it not? You haven't moved him from the school, I hope?"

"No, Harry is here," said Dumbledore quietly, his face seeming to have aged in the matter of seconds. All too well he realised that he had stood the test and failed, possibly losing the trust of some of his key Order members – for he knew Sirius must have had help, formulating this contingency plan for his family. He had indeed, with a measure of regret, underestimated the son of Orion and Walburga Black. Glancing over at a clock, he sighed. "I duly suspect that he is in Gryffindor Tower, preparing to leave."

"Thank you, headmaster, I shall use the portraits to find my way," said Madison tersely, turning to leave. Halting in the doorway, she turned back and zeroed in for the kill. "I find it reprehensible that you actually believed that to send a grieving boy back to relatives who do not care for him was in the child's _best interests_. If my time with Sirius taught me anything, is that there is much more to living than mere survival. Much, much more."

Staring at the empty doorway, the sound of echoing footsteps travelling down the stairs, Albus Dumbledore leant back in his chair, a solitary tear tracing a path down his weathered face. In the past week, he had not only lost a former student, but a child he regarded as a grandson had left his office with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It had disturbed him when the Boy-Who-Lived had expressed such anger in his grief, destroying a great many things in his office; but nothing could have prepared him for the cool, calculated stoicism of a widow, whose love and admiration for a man the rest of the world was quick to judge and condemn, had played a winning hand.

As venerable leader of the wizarding world, Albus Dumbledore had seen – and done – a lot in his time. So fixated had he become on the larger picture, that he had apparently lost perspective when it came to the smaller things. He had placed Harry with his Muggle relatives in good faith, too caught up in the securities that the blood bonds afforded the infant, to pay much mind to the long-term, psychological impact that the stay would impose upon the once-happy toddler. When Sirius had been 'unofficially' cleared, the human side to Albus Dumbledore would have wanted nothing more than to see the godfather reunited with his godson, but far from having the welfare of a thirteen year-old boy to consider, he had the well being of the wizarding world. Voldemort had already proven himself capable of penetrating the Fidelius Charm when it came to Harry, and as much as Albus trusted himself as Secret Keeper for Grimmauld Place, he was only human, and as a human being, he was more fallible than the strength of any blood bond. Privet Drive was, and would remain, the safest place for Harry Potter… and his interests had become concerned not so much with what was _best_ than what was _safest_.

Watching the determined Muggle woman let herself out of his office, intent on finding her way to her new ward, Albus Dumbledore could not help but replay the woman's parting words in her mind. It was then with great sadness that he acknowledged that whilst he may have done everything he could to ensure that Harry _survived_, he had paid little to no consideration to how Harry deserved to _live_. Looking down at the counterfeit marriage certificate that lay scrolled on his desk, Albus realised that there was much more to Sirius Black than he had ever let on. Had the man only been concerned about letting Harry 'live', he could have insisted upon claiming guardianship the moment he got married and his wife could assume the rights that, due to his then-standing criminal conviction, he could not act upon. That Sirius had kept his word and ensured that the record of marriage was not lodged until he was no longer a fugitive spoke of a man with integrity, respect and above all, remarkable constraint. In his heart of hearts, Albus Dumbledore knew that Sirius Black wanted Harry to both survive _and_ live… that he would never have jeopardised the safety of his wife and son by taking Harry in if he could not protect them all. Albus knew that Sirius had been working furiously over the better part of the past seven months to secure his family's Australian hideaway, and that he would never have intended for it to be revealed to Harry unless everything had been done to make sure it was safe. He had to concede that he had been wrong, and that Harry would be better placed with Sirius' wife and son; and he could only hope that all involved could one day forgive a foolish man for his narrow-minded mistake.

As Madison made her way through the halls of Hogwarts, feeling increasingly out of place – and cold – in her thin pink spaghetti top and camouflage shorts as hoards of students passed her, presumably on their way to the infamous end-of-term leaving feast, she could not help but feel a myriad of mixed emotions. Not only was she walking the walls of Hogwarts, a place Sirius had always spoken so highly of, vowing to show her one day, but she had no idea what sort of state the boy she had come to claim would be in when she found him.

At what Madison estimated to be halfway between Dumbledore's tower and the Gryffindor dormitories, she had recognised Ron and Hermione coming down the hallway. Noticing straight away that Harry was nowhere in sight, Madison was overwhelmed with images of the boy being in a state that had resembled her own just 36 hours earlier.

To say that Ron and Hermione were surprised to see Madison in the middle of the corridor, was something of an understatement. Even though they were of the assumption that she, having stayed the holidays at Grimmauld Place, was a witch and Order member, neither could understand why she had an interest in Harry. When she had then foregone her feigned Irish accent in her rush to ask after the boy, to find him, both teenagers were understandably wary.

"Listen, I can't explain everything now," she said. "Dumbledore knows I am here… please, I just have to get to Harry."

Fiercely protective of their friend, both teenagers drew their wands at her. Taking a step back, Madison held her hands up in defeat.

"Do I _look_ like I have a wand?" she said impatiently, "or any weapon at all? Really now, I admire your protectiveness, but shouldn't the fact that you've seen me _you-know-where_ be enough to convince you that I am loyal to _you-know-what_ and would _never_ harm a hair on Harry's head?"

"Just one question," said Hermione. "Why the fake accent? Who are you _really_? What do you want with Harry?"

"That was _three_ questions, Hermione," said Madison with a small smile. "But all valid. Now, in order: I feigned an Irish accent because I would have left a more lasting impression if you all could tell I am really from Australia. As for who I am, it would depend on which I.D. I chose to show you. My Muggle marriage licence lists my married name as O'Ryan, and my husband's name as Patrick… though you would have known him better as Sirius…" – she paused for a moment to swallow down the emotion that mentioning her husband's name aloud caused in her; and also to let her revelation sink into the minds of the teenagers before her. Fiddling with the smooth, cool metal of the wedding band on her ring finger, Madison took a deep breath and answered Hermione's final question. "As for what I want with Harry… I want to wipe away his tears, to share his pain; to tell him about the godfather who thought about him every single day that they were apart. Most importantly, I want to take Harry to his _real_ home, because that blasted aunt of his sure as hell did not make him feel welcomed."

Blinking back her own tears, Hermione exchanged a look with Ron and, without waiting for the bewildered redhead's reaction, motioned for Madison to follow.

"He's this way," she said simply, by way of understanding.

Letting Madison into the Gryffindor common room and directing her towards the stairs that led to the fifth year boy's dormitory, Hermione bade her well and practically had to drag Ron back out through the portrait hold. Smiling softly at the youngest Weasley boy's apparent lack of tact, Madison clung to the hope that there was still some chance that Harry had come through this latest ordeal with some of his childhood innocence left intact.

Noticing that the door to the dormitory was opened just a crack, Madison duck her head in quietly, not quite knowing whether to knock – thus giving the boy a chance to cover up his emotions – or simply enter. She settled instead to hover in the doorway, partially hidden by the door, but afforded an uninterrupted view of the boy in question, who sat at the foot of his bed, before his trunk, surrounded by books and clothing.

"Sirius," said Harry loudly and clearly, speaking into a device in his hand, which he held up a few inches from his face.

With a stab in her heart, Madison realised that Harry was trying to communicate with his godfather through a mirror; one of a pair that was partner to a mirror that she knew Sirius had carried with him everywhere since Christmas. As the boy became increasingly desperate, compulsively wiping the reflective glass clean and repeating his godfather's name, over and over, Madison could not stop her own tears from falling. The increasingly deflated child was completely unaware of her presence as she stole into the room and crouched beside him; close enough to touch, but slightly out of his direct eye line.

"Harry," she whispered, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder, but halting; choosing instead to hover mere millimetres from contact.

"Sirius!" Harry's eyes, which had begun to droop in defeat, had shot back towards the mocking mirror. When the boy appeared to shrug off his name being called as a figment of imagination, the frustrated child raising his hand as though to throw the mirror down and destroy it, Madison shot out her hand and firmly grasped Harry's wrist.

"Harry," she repeated, the boy now turning to her in surprise, the wrist in her grip falling lax as he began to stare straight through her.

"Madison?" said Harry, after a few moments. His cheeks flushing with embarrassment for having been caught trying to foolishly use a mirror to talk to the dead, he averted his eyes in shame. "Madison, what are you doing here?"

Cupping his chin in her free hand, she coaxed Harry's head up to look at her.

"Don't," she said firmly. "Don't be ashamed of what you just did. I did a lot worse, believe me-"

"What would you know?" Harry blurted hotly. "Who was Sirius to you?"

"Who _wasn't_ he?" mused Madison, unable to articulate a more definitive response. Her eyes began to drift to a point in the wall beyond Harry, blinking unseeingly as she pointlessly attempted to hold back her tears.

Confused, Harry frowned, and repeated his earlier question.

"Why are you here?"

Blinking away the moisture in her eyes, Madison came to her senses; here was a question she _could_ answer. Removing her hand from Harry's chin to run the back of her fingers down one side of Harry's cheeks, her other hand letting go of his wrist and creeping up to brush the long edges of his fringe out of his eyes, she smiled a painful smile.

"I'm here to take you home, Harry," she said in a broken whisper.

**End Chapter**

**Next Chapter: _Home?_ / _Epilogue_**

**Due: Before the year is out... I hope!**

**A/N: Yes, I know, I am deplorably cruel to follow the evil... evil... canon of OotP. But, what can I say, I _needed_ to write it; if only to try and better understand how an author (i.e. JK Rowling) could kill off the last surviving parental figure in a young boy's life. Even though leaving Harry, now, with a 'mother' figure in Madison, it still feels completely and utterly horrible, and I am still no closer to comprehending how JK could do such a thing to our dear old Padfoot. Most of all, it ripped my heart out (and then minced it in a blender) to depict the grief of a fifteen month old child, and I must say that it raised a lot of questions in my mind how an orphaned Harry had been able to emerge from his early childhood intact after, presumably, being ignored and shoved in a cupboard as he pined for his parents. I'd like to take a leaf out of JK's book and vow that ****there was a 'reason' to sending Sirius through the veil (over three years on and I still can't bring myself to say 'killed'!) but having seen a lot of death in the past few years I can quantifiably say that 'reason' brings with it very little consolation... I am hopeful, however, that the Epilogue might bring with it the same measure of cathartic closure as it did for me, writing it.**


	6. Home

**Disclaimer**: I solemnly swear that I am not the creator of the world of Harry Potter.

Updated: Monday January 1, 2007 

**A/N: **Also posting my new story today… that amounts to _two_ updates in _one_ day. Can you just _tell_ I am all out of sorts by the prospect of going back to work tomorrow? Can't say I didn't mind ten days of Christmas festivities / slouching around in my PJs to avoid the post-Christmas sales, but just as you get a taste of freedom… _just _as the Plot Bunnies wake up from their egg-nog induced comas and decide to come out and play… it's time to bloody well go back to work! grumbles

**Chapter Six: _Home?_**

"What is this place?" said Harry, turning around on the spot, taking in a 360 degree view of the room he now found himself in. Andromeda's Portkey had deposited them, quite liberally, in the centre of the main living area of the house, the elder woman herself having promised to make her own way back, to give Madison and Harry some time alone. To their immediate left, at the front of the house, was the 'living corner' with lounges, easy-chairs and Madison's latest acquisition – a television. Directly opposite, in the other corner, was an airy eating area, with a broad wooden table surrounded by eight high-back chairs. Slightly out of view, just around a corner and directly parallel to the dining area, was the kitchen, and directly behind them lay the hallway to the bedrooms.

From where Harry stood, he could see no less than three exterior walls of the house; and he knew they were exterior because they were filled almost exclusively with wide open windows and sets of double-doors, all draped with translucent white mosquito netting. Most of the doors, he could tell, were open, causing the curtains to billow in the wind; the motion of material fluttering casting his mind back to the archway, the veil, the similarities burning his eyes until he forced himself to look beyond the flowing white curtain. Outside, he could see a wide timber deck that, from what he could tell, surrounded the entire house; and beyond that, vibrant green foliage and a hint of blue.

"Is that the ocean?" he raised a brow. When Madison O'Ryan had turned up in his dormitory room to 'take him home', Harry had been so relieved about not going back to the Dursleys, that he didn't think to stop and ask questions.

When spending a moment running through a mental list of places that were safe for him to go, he had acknowledged that his options were severely limited, and as much as he had not been looking forward to returning, he had fully expected to let go of the Portkey and open his eyes to the familiar, damp hallway of number twelve Grimmauld Place.

Almost immediately thereafter, he realised that Madison had evidently been referring to _her_ home. He'd not really given much thought as to where she, Jamie and her husband lived when she was not in London on Order business, but now he was evidently here, the questions were coming thick and fast; namely, what was he doing here with her? Turning to look at her completely, Harry endeavoured to ask just that.

"Why am I here?"

For the past several minutes, Madison could only watch as Harry took in his new home and began to ask his abstract questions. Knowing that he had not really turned his full attention to her, she knew that she could prolong the moment in which she would have to explain, and so just stood there and let him take it all in. When, finally, his eyes levelled at hers and asked the question she dreaded answering the most, she knew she could not prolong it any longer.

"Maybe we ought to sit down," she said quietly. "Would you like anything to eat? Drink? I'm afraid we don't have any house elves here, so it's all a pretty much self-sufficient state."

Harry accepted a seat on a softly upholstered, well-cushioned sofa and nodded slowly, his heart inwardly doing flip flops at Madison's inclusive use of 'we' when apologising about the lack of house elves.

"That's all right," he said levelly as he peeled off the Muggle jacket he had donned to stave off the slight chill of the Hogwarts hallways, draping it over the back of the settee he was sitting on. Deciding that if he was going to stay here, wherever it was, that he was going to do so on his own terms, he decided to let his expectations be known. "At the Dursleys' I was always kind of like their house elf, so it'd be a welcome change just to have to fend for myself."

Taken aback by Harry's bluntness, Madison's knees began to buckle and she suddenly found herself leaning on the arm of the lounge for support. Taking a deep breath, she reached over and placed a firm grip on Harry's shoulder, causing him to look up at her.

"It is your choice whether you choose to stay here or not, Harry," she said softly, "but I assure you that if you decide to make this your home, you will not have to fend for yourself. That's what I'm here for."

Eyes widening at the woman's display of what could only be described as a maternal gesture, Harry found he was speechless. Though he had met Madison several months previously, and had maintained an irregular mail contact with her since, it began to dawn on him that he really didn't know who she was. Before he could ask any of the pressing questions that were beginning to burn in his mind, she straightened up and smiled.

"I bet you could do with some Butterbeer, yes?" she said cheerily, leaping at the chance to manufacture a distraction; "and some food? I think there's still some Pumpkin Pasties in the ice box, I could put some in the oven for you, would you like that?"

"Oh, um, I don't want to be any trouble…" said Harry feeling awkward. "Just the Butterbeer would be fine…"

"Nonsense," said Madison, waving him off and skittering across the unpolished floorboards towards the kitchen, but not before retrieving Harry's jacket and flinging it on the hook of a coat rack as she passed. If Harry had looked closely, he would have seen his name stencilled above the shiny brass hook. Choosing against drawing attention to it, Madison busied herself, aimlessly turning out her cupboards. "If you're going to stay here I'm going to have to feed you eventually – might as well be while you still have _some_ meat on your bones. I have been known to keep hungry troops waiting, I'm not very good in the kitchen you see, so when I'm offering you had better jump at it!"

"Oh, um, all right then?" said Harry, his response coming out more like a question as he rose from his chair and ironed out his trousers, following Madison around into the kitchen so that he might hear her better over the banging of cupboard doors. Hovering by a stool at the breakfast bar whilst the frantic woman bustled around nervously. Beginning to sense that the woman was using her hospitality as a delay tactic to answering what he was beginning to see were big questions of his, he cleared his throat. "I… I really don't mean to sound rude or anything, but I'm actually really confused as to what I am supposed to be doing here."

Madison gave up on the tray she had been trying to wrestle from out of an over-stuffed, heavily frosted freezer and sighed. Slowly wiping the flakes of ice from her hands, she closed the door, removed a Butterbeer and a Muggle wine cooler from the fridge and headed towards Harry, closing the fridge door behind her with her foot.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, taking a deep breath as she motioned for him to take a seat and pushed the ice-cold bottle towards him. "I'm not handling this too well. I never expected that I would have to tell you this alone…"

"Tell me what?" said Harry softly, urging her on when he noticed that her voice had trailed off.

"That… that…" Madison fought to find the words. "God if only it were so simple to be just one thing! Ask me something small… something I can answer."

"All right…" said Harry, looking around the room. Noticing for the first time that it was broad daylight outside when, barely an hour ago he had been leaving Hogwarts in the middle of the Leaving Feast, he found his first question. "Where are we?"

"Australia," said Madison. After the reaction her natural accent had gotten with Ron and Hermione, she had chosen to adopt an Irish lilt with Harry for the time being. In removing Harry from the school, she had done so without giving him the opportunity to say goodbye to his friends. To her surprise, it was something that Harry had almost insisted upon; Madison could only assume that he was tiring of seeing their pitying stares and wanted a clean break. Either that, or he hadn't quite realised how far they were going – that they were indeed just going some place like Order Headquarters, where all his friends were likely to spend a majority of their summer.

"_Australia_?" said Harry, mouth agape.

"In the far north-east of the continent, in the tropics of the state of Queensland, to be precise," said Madison. "Welcome to Paradise Lodge."

"Paradise Lodge?" mirrored Harry, looking around the room once more, paying particular attention to the wilderness beyond the balcony outside. In the end he decided how this could be defined as a little slice of paradise. He didn't know why, but he had felt remarkably at ease from the moment he arrived… well, as much at ease as he could ever feel in a strange place.

"Any other questions about our location?" said Madison conversationally. She felt perennially safer on these neutral topics and could go on about them all day. "I assure you that there is an illustrious history about how this little patch of rainforest came to be in our possession, but I've a feeling you have some more direct questions…"

"How am I here?" said Harry. "Why am I with you? I mean it's not that I don't want… I mean, I don't understand why you… um… well, it's not safe for me here."

"All right, so I see I'm not going to be able to keep this conversation to a nice and slow one question at a time kind of pace," stated Madison, waving off Harry's apology before he had a chance to voice it. "Don't apologise! You have the right to know these answers! It is I who should be apologising for not quite knowing how to articulate the best response."

"Maybe you should start at the beginning," suggested Harry.

"Oh, no," said Madison, shaking her head. "Trust me, that will only raise more questions." – she paused – "okay I'm going to answer what you asked, in order, and I can only ask you to save the questions which will most certainly come up until I am finished. Do you think you can do that?" at Harry's nod, she nodded and reached blindly into a drawer under the breakfast bar for a pen and notepad. "-here, you may find it'll help to write them down as they come… because I sure as hell know that if I were in your shoes I'd not be able to stop myself from interrupting otherwise… in fact…" she added as an afterthought, thinking back to the day she and Sirius had met and he had told her everything; "I can call upon personal experience."

Frowning slightly, Harry nodded and accepted the pen and paper, going so far as to poise the distinctly Muggle ballpoint at the bottom of the top line on the A6 sized legal pad.

"First of all," said Madison, beginning what she knew would be one of the most important make-or-break conversations in her life; "let me assure you that this property has wards to rival Hogwarts, and when it comes to safety, only four wizards alive on this earth know you're here. Six, if you include yourself and Jamie, but I doubt you're about to disclose your location to Voldewart anytime soon, and Jamie can't construct sentences yet so I think it's safe to assume that _he's_ not a security risk…" she paused to let Harry take in that fact. "You are here because, by law, I have recently been appointed your guardian. Now, how _that_ came to be is a rather complicated and convoluted story which I will get into in a moment, but for now I just want to assure you that I most certainly _do_ want the job… if you'll let me… no, no, you don't have to give me an answer now. You may well change your mind when you've heard the entire story. How am I doing so far?"

"Oh, well, um…" Harry began, only to be cut off by a stranger in the doorway.

"MAD!" said a loud, boisterous voice from behind the teenager. "What rock have you bloody well been hiding under? You nicking off, gallivanting around the world without telling me anymore? I'm insulted… oh, 'allo… whose this we have here? Little bit young ta be drinkin' beer there, aren't we kid?"

Harry jumped as a meaty hand clapped down on his shoulder, his hand instinctively moving to cover the label of his Butterbeer bottle as he looked up at Madison in alarm. Cursing under her breath before looking up and meeting Harry's eyes, Madison rushed to get control of things before they quickly got out of hand.

"Bruce! Hi!" she said in surprise, rounding the breakfast bar to navigate her friend away from Harry. Bruce Anderson was one of her oldest childhood friends, who ran a charter company out of Port Douglas using a fleet of runabouts that her grandfather had patented. The man was a shrewd tourism operator and entrepreneurial businessman with a raucous sense of humour and typical Australian 'ocker' charm. Unfortunately, the man was also completely unable to take a hint; Madison knew she was going to have her work cut out for her if she was going to get rid of this unexpected house guest without damaging their friendship.

Steeling herself for introductions, she rounded her shoulders and put on her best game face. She could only hope that Bruce didn't start asking about her husband.

"Harry, this is Bruce; I've known him since preschool and yet for some reason he's still around," she said, the familiar line suddenly seeming stale and rehearsed on her tongue. Recovering, she turned to Bruce. "And Bruce, this is…"

"Harry bloody Potter!" said Bruce, grabbing Harry's hand and yanking it up and down like a farmer would a water pump in a drought. "Blimey, kid, you're all we hear about these days! Great to finally meet ya! Mads, I hope you weren't planning on hiding him from us, not after the lead-in we've all been fed since Christmas! Does Kaz know he's here yet, she's going to shit bricks when she finds out I saw him first!"

Watching helplessly as Harry seemed to shrink lower and lower in his chair, wide green eyes filled with a mix of bewilderment, resignation and confusion, Madison had to resort to thwacking her friend on his upper arm to get his attention.

"BRUCE!" she snapped, pulling him away from Harry. Thinking fast, she didn't spare any time to congratulate herself on her cover. "Leave him alone, will ya? Harry's just arrived home for the holidays; we're both horrendously jet-lagged. Do me a favour and piss off for a while, give's some time to get settled… and for Pete's sake do not tell Kaz you've seen us. A lot's gone down since we last got together and I'm too busy to explain… I'll invite you all over when we're ready. Be sure to act surprised when you see Harry, kay?"

"Oh, all right," said Bruce, seeming to, for once in his life, have a moment of perceptiveness. Ducking his head back in the door, fighting against Madison's physical nudges towards the deck, he looked over at Harry. "See ya later, kid! Just let Mad know if ya want to go out on the Reef, and I'll see about gettin' some colour into that pallid English schoolboy skin of yours, eh?"

Harry could only nod dumbly, his mind too confused to truly absorb any of what the man was offering at that time. No sooner had Madison returned to her place opposite him at the breakfast bar, profusely apologising for the unexpected interruption, did he realise something quite odd.

"Your voice…" he said suspiciously. "It's different. Your accent, I mean…"

"Ah, yes…" said Madison, popping open her drink and allowing herself a generous swig. "An Australian accent amongst a houseful of European wizards would have been a little too conspicuous. I kept it up until now, because I thought you could use the consistency… I didn't mean to be deceptive."

"What is an Australian witch doing in the Order?" asked Harry. "I've never heard anything of Voldemort having any interests outside of Europe-"

"I'm not a witch, Harry," said Madison sadly. "I apologise if that was your assumption, but I was… I was… well, in a matter of speaking, I was undercover."

"But if you're a Muggle, what are you doing in the wizarding world? How does your house have wards around it? How can you have Butterbeer in your fridge? How did you come to be at headquarters? How did you become my guardian…" Harry's voice trailed off as a particular thought struck him. "We're not… _are we _related?"

Madison sighed, and took another swig of her drink.

"We are, in a manner of speaking," she said wistfully, but quickly cut in again before the flash of excitement on Harry's face could settle. "Not in the way you'd expect, I'm afraid, but I do want you to know that I've come to consider you as much a son to me as little Jamie. My husband spoke very highly of you… to anyone who would listen, in fact – just look at Bruce…"

Ignoring the last bit of what the woman before him had said, Harry was fixated on the implication that he was in somehow related to this woman through her husband. The wheels in his mind were starting to turn, and he could not help but feel as though the next few minutes would change his perspective on everything.

"Your… your _husband_?" said Harry, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Yes," said Madison in a hoarse voice, the memory of her husband pulling her down into a well of sadness at the best of times, but now as she was faced with Harry either accepting or rejecting her, she found she was dangerously close to losing it. Already, silent tears had began to fall as she reached over and grasped Harry's hands in her own and stared directly into his eyes. Summoning every ounce of courage that she had left, she took a breath and uttered one short, pain-filled word.

"Sirius."

Reflexively jerking his hands out of Madison's grip, Harry reeled back in his chair and stared at her in shock, the dots taking a few moments to connect themselves in his mind. His first thought touched upon how it was possible, before broadening to feelings of deep sadness… and then betrayal. Sirius had been married, and he had never even known… had never even thought to ask. If that was all there was to it, maybe he could have accepted the news, but he had _met_ Madison, and both she and Sirius did not allude to being married. Why had they lied to him? Did they not want him as part of their family? And what about Jamie? With Madison as his mother, Sirius had to be the father, and yet why didn't Sirius want to share that with him? Madison had said something about being undercover… maybe Sirius couldn't let people know he was married because he was a fugitive. Remembering what Snape had said about Sirius leading a double life, however, Harry couldn't help the chill that ran down his spine at the implication that the whole Order must have known of the relationship, and yet still his own godfather couldn't trust him enough with the secret.

"Harry… Harry, please say something!" said Madison, sobbing openly.

"Why am I here?" asked Harry coolly. "Why do you want me now, when you and Sirius evidently didn't want me here before? Is it because Sirius is gone? Do you expect to use me to cling to the world your _husband_ introduced you to?"

"Oh God, Harry, if only you knew!" wailed Madison, resting her elbows on the bench top and burying her face in her hands. "I don't even know where to begin."

"I don't know if I want to hear it," said Harry tightly, pushing his bottle aside and rising to his feet. Once he had done that, however, he stopped, a blank, lost look on his face when he realised that he didn't really have anywhere else better to be, let alone any means of getting back to England.

"Sirius… Sirius… he was so scared…" said Madison, hiccoughing into the table, unable to raise her head from her hands. "He was so scared that you would think badly of him… that you wouldn't understand… oh God Harry do you really think that he… that both of us… didn't want you here? Why else do you think you've been all my friends have heard about? I don't think you realise how much it hurt Sirius to see you with those Muggles, to live his life here without getting to share it with you. Second to Jamie, I don't think that man loved anything more; no, scratch that, his love for you both was equally on par, as though you were truly his own."

"I don't understand," said Harry, his own voice becoming hoarse with emotion at the mere suggestion that someone had truly cared about him that much. "If all that was true… why didn't he tell me he was married, how come no one told me who you were? If I can be here now, why couldn't I have come before?"

Madison looked up, deep sadness and regret in her eyes.

"Originally, not even the Order were to find out Sirius and I were married," she explained. "You have to understand that I am a Muggle… my son, the first half-blood born to a family line that prided itself on its purity. Of course, you know that Sirius held no stock in all that rot, but you have to understand that Sirius was terribly afraid of me and Jamie being targeted by Voldemort, as it was standard practice during the first war for Voldemort to send his Death Eaters to eliminate lines that had become impure. Not only that, but so long as Sirius remained wanted by the Ministry, if it had come out that he had married whilst on the run, and that I had known he was a fugitive, had we been caught together I would have been held culpable for aiding and abetting a fugitive, and Jamie would have been placed in an orphanage. We couldn't tell you because we weren't sure on how Voldemort was getting his information… I'm sorry, Harry, but for a while there it really did seem as though Voldemort was plundering your mind through your connection… that's why Sirius so reluctantly gave his consent for Snape to teach you Occlumency. It wasn't until Dumbledore questioned Kreacher after… after… well, this week, that we knew."

She wiped a hand over her face and sighed. Somehow she knew that to inform Harry that she and Sirius has resolved to tell him everything that summer, irrespective of if they knew where Voldemort was getting his information or not, would not bode well with the grieving teenager. Already, the pain of knowing all that Sirius had missed out on – for reasons that now seemed so over-cautious and useless – was enough to keep her up at night, tortured by what ifs.

"Coming to Grimmauld Place for Christmas was not planned," she told the boy, continuing her explanation. "Sirius had spent most of the past year or so travelling back and forth between here and England with a Portkey, using a Time Turner to be in two places at once – that's why he looked so tired and emaciated, he was running himself to the bone. When the holidays came, he was going to use the Time Turner, but I was stubborn, and not only did I want to meet you, Harry, but I wanted Jamie's first Christmas to be with his _entire_ family," at this she looked pointedly at Harry, nodding slightly at him so as to confirm that she did, indeed, just mean to infer that she considered Harry a part of her family. Reaching over and grabbing the boy's hand again, this time relieved when he didn't jerk away, she held his gaze. "It breaks my heart that Sirius is not here to see his dream become a reality. This day would have been amongst the most proudest and happiest in his life… and I do really hope that you decide to stay."

Looking up at this woman who had shared her life with his godfather, Harry blinked away heavy tears.

"I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be right now," he said in a shaking voice, his bottom lip trembling uncontrollably. There were still a few things left unexplained, and he couldn't quite understand why he hadn't been told, but the sincerity in the woman's voice as she assured him how much Sirius had cared and they both had wanted him here had won him over. And truth be told, _anywhere_ was looking better than the Dursleys at that moment.

Her hand still clasped in Harry's, Madison had rounded the edge of the counter and pulled Harry away from his stool in an instant. Before Harry could even expel his first sob, he found himself pulled into a warm, motherly embrace, wiry arms wrapped around him tightly, long slender fingers carding through his hair as a soft voice whispered soothing words into his ear.

"Welcome home, Harry," said Madison, joining Harry in his weeping, the pair looking quite the sight as they stood in the middle of the kitchen holding and rocking each other.

As Harry allowed his armour to crumble for what felt like the first time in his life, he held on for dear life and cried. It felt strange to have a woman hold him… Mrs Weasley's hugs had always felt a little over-bearing, and he'd always felt as though he was encroaching upon Weasley territory. This woman here, was like an extension of Sirius… the closest thing to a godmother that he could fathom, she considered him family, and had welcomed him _home_. A home that Sirius had called his own… a home in the country, where you could see the sky.

**

* * *

****Epilogue **

It felt like it took an age for him to fall; the strength of his cousin's curse throwing him backwards with no hope of recovery. The veil, he knew only too well, was flapping at his heels invitingly, and he knew even before it happened that to lose his balance would be suicide.

Irony was an iron-clad bitch sometimes.

Just like Bella.

He could not help but lock eyes with the crazed woman in question as the curse hit home, the surging feelings of resentment and anger at her maniacal and triumphant laughter giving way to panic as his ears heard something else.

Harry. Harry screaming his name.

A choked feeling of failure threatened to overcome him as he couldn't help but note that right then, that very moment, marked the very last time he'd ever hear his godson's call. Forgetting all of the things that would now be left to Madison to tell the boy, his heart twisted in anguish at the injustice of not being able to say goodbye. It would all be over in seconds, and whilst his mind was going a million miles an hour, there would just not be enough _time_.

Twelve years in Azkaban in the exclusive company of Dementors did not leave him without an unhealthy measure of pessimism. Once the cold steel door had slammed shut on his life as a free man – a title he now knew he'd never live to enjoy again – he had given up on ever finding love. When he had eventually fled England, determined to push the horrors of the North Sea behind him, he would have been rapt with fresh food in his belly and a dry place to sleep. To have found all of that, and so much more, on the beach that day was, even now, beyond his comprehension. To never see his beloved wife, and their little Jamie, ever again… the thought alone was enough to stop his heart, veil or no.

Fear and resignation filled his eyes as he locked eyes with his godson one last time. He wanted so badly to apologise to the stricken teenager. Apologise for convincing James that Pettigrew was a better choice of Secret Keeper. Apologise for going after said two-timing rat and getting himself locked up in Azkaban when he ought to have been fulfilling his duties as godfather. Apologise for keeping so many secrets, for letting petty concerns and _fear_ keep the boy at arm's length. Apologise for not being strong enough to live through the latest battle the boy had to endure – the first, and only battle they would ever fight side by side.

Questions filled his mind as his vision started to fade. Whoever said that one's life flashed before their lives at the moment of death, had obviously never died. There was just not enough time to think of what had been in the past; his thoughts were far too preoccupied with the future. The future that his loved one's would face without him. It was, in a clinical sense, a most mixed blessing that his son would, like Harry, grow to only remember him through the recollection of others. Having lost his parents at such a young age, being without James and Lily had become a simple matter of fact for the bespectacled teenager.

His death now, he knew, would be hard on them all, Harry and Madison especially, but if one thought consoled him as conscious thought began to fail him, it was that they had each other. Madison, being the wonderfully head-strong and innovative woman he fell in love with, would take care of his 'boys', irrespective of the Dumbledore-sized hurdles in her way, and between Moony, Tonks, Andromeda and the little boy who bought so much joy to them all, his wife would carry on. It had been quietly acknowledged between Moony and himself that not since the fiery Lily Potter had graced this earth had they ever set eyes upon such a formidable woman. He couldn't think of anyone better placed to raise his son and look out for his godson.

Lily… James. A fleeting, final thought crossed his mind as he contemplated the question of the great beyond. Would shedding his mortal coil mean that he would be reunited with loved ones he had lost? Anticipation rippled in his very soul at the thought of finally finding resolution. The questions that had haunted him since his actions and influence had indirectly led to his friends' deaths would finally be answered, and he could find peace.

He wasn't aware of the point in which his anguish had turned into acceptance, but somehow he knew that the ones he was leaving behind would know he would be watching them from the best seat in the house, James and Lily and all of the people they had lost in the first war standing firmly by his side. It was a crime how little time he got to spend with his family, that much was true, but as he had drunkenly declared at James' Stag Night, men like him were around for a good time, not a long time. The happiness he had finally found with Madison and Jamie… Moony and Harry… may have been fleeting by comparison; but coming to a man who had all but given up on finding but a day's solace from the terrors of Azkaban, it would be enough.

Death, now, would be the next great adventure…

END STORY

A/N: I don't care which way I chose to sugar-coat it, Sirius going through that damn veil is still horrible. But I hope, at least, by depicting him accepting his fate, it'll make things a little bearable. And at least I had him find a little bit of happiness before he kicked it… unlike certain authors who we won't mention… locking him up in a house with a homicidal House Elf and insane portrait indeed!


End file.
